


Almost Had Me

by amyponders



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Best Friends, Body Image, Brothers, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Related, Character Death, Cheating, Childhood Friends, Cuckolding, Disability, Disabled Character, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Falling In Love, Fat Shaming, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gentle Kissing, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening to Hozier's Music, I'm Sorry, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Ivar (Vikings) Being an Asshole, Ivar (Vikings) is a Little Shit, Jealous Ivar (Vikings), Kattegat (Vikings), Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Love Triangles, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Relationships, Neck Kissing, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Physical Disability, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Ivar (Vikings), Reader-Insert, Requited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rivalry, Romantic Friendship, Sensuality, Sexual Inexperience, Sexual Tension, Sibling Rivalry, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Slow To Update, Sneaking Around, Some Plot, Suffering, Surprise Kissing, Temporarily Unrequited Love, The Author Regrets Everything, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vikings, Virginity, plus sized, plus sized reader, they're all soft for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21668950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyponders/pseuds/amyponders
Summary: You've been close to the brothers for years, especially Ivar, but after a fallout with your best friend and little in the way of romance, you start seeking Hvitserk more often.
Relationships: Bjorn & Hvitserk (Vikings), Bjorn (Vikings)/Reader, Bjorn (Vikings)/You, Freydis/Ivar (Vikings), Hvitserk (Vikings)/Reader, Hvitserk (Vikings)/You, Hvitserk/Ivar (Vikings)/You, Ivar (Vikings)/Reader, Ivar (Vikings)/You, Ubbe (Vikings) & Reader
Comments: 70
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take care of Hvitserk after he comes home from a fight and Ivar finds a way to make it all about him.

[Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3yWcdqBCcEMDOg3TQehM3r?si=GxoiQejGRdCEHLpeD1wnGA)

In between commotion and shouts of victory Hvitserk entered the main hall with his rowdy group of soldiers trailing behind. He was panting and completely soaked in blood. At that moment, your first instinct was to drop everything and rush to his side. You had been nervously knitting some stockings since he left, trying to take your mind off the fact that he was putting his life in danger yet again over some meaningless quarrel or another. 

In truth, you hated knitting but since the alternative was to sulk unoccupied, you really did not have much of a choice. Thankfully, Freyja had heard your prayers and brought him back home safely. You carelessly tossed aside your needle and yarn as you did not need them anymore and quickly got up from your spot next to Ivar. Hvitserk squirmed when your hands came to touch his face, trying to get his blood-splattered braids away from his features to get a good look at him. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, Y/N. I am okay. Please, I am all covered in muck and blood. Do not get your hands dirty.” 

He gave you a small smile before his face contorted into something else. He quickly grabbed his bleeding side and in spite of himself his legs wobbled; he ended half-kneeling in front of you but determined to stand up just as fast. He was not about to embarrass himself in front of his army, all the slave girls, his brothers, and you. After all, he was a Viking. And Vikings did not complain. 

“Do not lie to me! You are hurt!” You reprimanded him. 

He knew very well what that tone meant. He better not try to escape you now or you would probably end up stabbing him on the other side of his ribcage. You were not contentious nor did you enjoy violence, but growing up next to the sons of Ragnar had taught you a thing or two about how to deal with them. If they kicked, you just had to kick them back harder. And even though the brothers liked to take on a protective role with you, when it came to them, you could be just as fierce and determined. No one hurt your boys. But likewise, they could not escape your care either. None were willing to risk your wrath.

“Ubbe!” You all but yelled. The eldest son of Aslaug, who had been previously cheering at his brother’s victory and being decidedly unconcerned about his well-being, looked at you with wide blue eyes brimming with alarm when he realized you were in a bossy mood. “Are you going to just stand there while your brother bleeds out? Help me get him up.”

“Shit. I am sorry, Y/N.” He said fervently while passing an arm under his brother’s shoulders and helping him over to the closest chair. 

Hvitserk grimaced quietly again. You gave Ubbe a firm look but did not say anything else. Instead, you focused on getting Hvitserk’s light armor and shirt off so you could look at his wound better. You were slightly surprised at how mechanically you had removed them. Ivar, who up until now had been silent - no doubt relishing his brother’s victory and being just as carefree as Ubbe - scoffed slightly. You knelt in front of Hvitserk and tried to keep your composure. You were not exactly comfortable with being this close to a half-naked man, being much too shy and inexperienced, but this took precedence over your personal qualms. He had a gashing cut that required your quick attention. 

“Why are you so concerned about this thick-headed idiot? Huh? He knew what he was getting into...” Ivar asked in his usual soft tone then chuckled slightly.

“Just stop. Not now, Ivar.” You replied coolly, pursing your lips into a straight line. 

You were not in the mood to humor him. And even if he did not show it, you were sure, - knowing him as you did - that he had felt the sting of your reply. He could not stand it whenever you became the slightest bit annoyed at him, always rushing to make it up to you. But he, being who he was in front of everyone else, refrained from showing any real worry.

“This is all just part of being a warrior. He can tend to that wound himself.” Ivar pushed all matter-of-factly. “Right, brother?”

Hvitserk nodded through gritted teeth, but the way his hand was trembling while clutching his wound told you otherwise. You snapped his hand away, lest he contaminate it and made it worse and you started shouting orders at the slave girls to bring you hot water, clean thread, a needle, and some towels. 

And still, after all these years, the thralls looked at Ivar for approval before undertaking any orders you gave them. He had corrected them their fair share of times saying that they were to make your wishes their command, but you knew they did not exactly like you or respect you very much for that matter. They used to make fun of you, picking on your weight constantly, until one day Bjørn had enough and threatened to beat them if they did not stop. 

You knew they still whispered and gossiped behind your back and they found other ways to be quietly nasty, but at least they did not do it in front of the boys anymore. It did not help that you clearly had their favor and most of the slave girls either had or wanted to sleep with the brothers, so it all boiled down to jealousy. They tried to get their attention in the most unsubtle ways, and sometimes they managed to get it. But at the end of the day, they knew they could not ever command the respect you had from them.

“Are you deaf? Now!” You turned and yelled at them, clearly annoyed. 

There was no time for their usual defiance. Ubbe chuckled at the spooked face they made, not being used to seeing you in a snappy mood. They scurried away and in no time you had what you needed to tend to the blond. Your hands started working diligently, adrenaline fueling your movements. Hvitserk sat there and suffered your ministrations and even though his Viking pride compelled him to say otherwise, the look in his eyes after you were done sewing him shut was filled with gratitude. He nodded imperceptibly at you while you told him to stay still because you still needed to apply some salve and herbs. 

The crowd inside the great hall was starting to dissipate. They had come accompanying Hvitserk, no doubt looking to start a feast in celebration, but now they had all dispersed ushered out by Ubbe, probably searching for another place to enjoy the rest of their night. And even if you were busy, you could still feel Ivar’s puncturing gaze drilling holes in you. He was naturally jealous and resentful - that is just who he was, and you had learned to love him regardless - but when it came to you, his best and truest friend, he did not like it one bit whenever you paid too much attention to any of his brothers. Well, in truth, to anyone else _but_ him.

Ubbe was the first to break the silence. “Brother, you are fuming like a bonfire.” He teased him while whittling his knife against a whetstone, continuing what he was doing before Hvitserk entered the main hall.

“I simply do not understand.” He said calmly. “How come I never get any attention like that?” He asked in a joking tone - or his approximation of it, he barely ever joked with anyone outside of you - but he ended up sounding as if he were really slighted. You knew the difference, so you did not take offense. 

“Do not lie, little brother. If there is someone here who always takes up Y/N’s attention, it is you.” Ubbe retorted.

Ivar smirked. “True. But I am selfish and spoiled and I do not like to share.” Ivar had many faults, but a lack of self-awareness was not one of them.

Hvitserk was the one who interjected this time: “Maybe she finally grew tired of your bad temper. Maybe… Y/N just cannot resist me and my charm. I mean...” He huffed when you - somewhat irritated - intentionally rubbed your fingers against his sore skin a little too harshly. “Did you see how fast she undressed me?” He continued bragging nonetheless and tried to smile. He was joking. Good. That meant his mind was elsewhere and not on the pain. 

“You are relentless.” You whispered to him, shaking your head in annoyance. He winked at you and you could not help but blush weakly. “All done now.”

“Sure.” Ivar scoffed again. “Like she would ever lay eyes on a boy like you...” He was flipping his knife in his hand distractedly. 

The flames from the fireplace bathed his face in a golden warm light. In spite of his little charade, he looked at ease. You liked seeing him like this, well-rested and in good spirits. 

They often bantered about you - and jokingly, you told yourself - flirted with you, trying to outdo each other. You chalked it up to their competitive nature. They relished seeing you fussing and blushing, but you never took their compliments to heart. Something always held you back from believing their sweet words. They had a deep affection for you, sure. But you seriously doubted any of them harbored feelings for you. Them or any man in Kattegat for that matter. And you had never seen them courting any girls your size, so they might as well be doing it to make you feel better.

You had been friends since infancy, your parents were close allies of King Ragnar and Queen Aslaug. And since your father was almost always away fighting alongside Ragnar, the Queen often invited you and your mother to stay for long periods of time in the house, until eventually, you moved in at the boy’s request. It was easier than traveling back and forth between Kattegat and your village all the time. Their endearment notwithstanding, you knew they were just incorrigible ladies’ men. 

“What do you know about what Y/N likes?” Ubbe teased him. 

You took a towel to dry your hands after washing them in the basin of hot water, then sat back next to Ivar. You kept up with their exchange but did not speak. You had heard them having dozens of similar conversations in the past.

“Seeing as I am the one who spends the most time with her, I would say I am qualified to assume, Ubbe.” Ivar squinted his eyes at him mischievously. 

Truth be told, you were not even sure what you liked, so how could he? You had never been with a man. In fact, no one had even kissed you yet. Well, Hvitserk had. But you did not count that. One day, some months earlier, laughing as he often did, he had stolen a kiss from you and you had been fuming for days, equal parts embarrassed and slighted. Ironically, your sour mood had relented when you started to fear for Hvitserk’s safety. Because naturally, when Ivar found out the reason behind your avoidance of them, he got so angry you had to forego your own annoyance. 

And then it took hours for you to calm _him_ down and convince him that you really were not that mad at Hvitserk to begin with and that he should let his brother live to see another Yul. Hvitserk had playfully offered to kiss you again several times and embarrassingly enough you had considered taking him up on his offer, even if you had never admitted it out loud, but it had been a long while since he had brought it up, seeing as the last time he did he received a close shave from an ax coming from a silent Ivar’s hands. Everyone knew that quiet Ivar was the most dangerous. He really could get incredibly possessive of you.

“When are you going to admit she likes me better?” Hvitserk laughed out loud and threw his bloody shirt at Ivar with his right hand.

“That is not true.” Ivar retorted, shaking his knife at him light-heartedly and his blue eyes twinkled.

“Boys, that is enough.” You said in a motherly tone. 

Ivar crawled the small distance between where he was sitting and your chair, and he passed an arm around your knees delicately but firmly. He looked up at you with pupils dilated almost to the edge of his big eyes, all the blue displaced by the black, chin resting on your lap. His bewitching gaze held you in a trance. You knew what he was doing; he liked to play coy whenever he wanted something out of you. In a way, that spoke more about you than about him. If he kept doing that, it was only because it worked like a charm. Every time.

“Tell him.” 

“T-tell him what?” You cleared your throat after speaking.

“That you only have eyes for me.” Ivar spoke deliberately slowly in his clipped voice.

“Now, now, Ivar. You know how Y/N feels about lying.” Ubbe interrupted with a smirk.

Instead of joining their banter, you passed a hand down his soft hair in response and he smiled sweetly, purring like a cat. Your fingers scratched the underside of his chin. 

“Your hair is getting too long, Ivar.” You remarked. “When will you let me braid it?” You held his face in your hands.

You knew how much he hated having his hair braided even if he did sit still for you some days. He hated it when other people did things for him. He shaved his own beard. He picked his own clothes. He dressed alone. And he yelled at the servants whenever they tried to touch his hair to comb it. You had been working on getting him to be more open and sometimes it worked, but you had to catch him in good spirits. 

“I do it for Hvitty all the time-” You started but stopped when you realized how it sounded. You merely meant he could trust you since you knew what you were doing, but it came off more like the start of a competition.

“That is right. She does. And I love it.” Hvitserk teased as he threw himself back on the chair, looking for a comfortable position to go to sleep, exhaustion, and pain overcoming him. His body needed to rest desperately.

“Do it now.” Ivar retorted, maybe because he just could not stand to have his brother enjoy something he was not enjoying too.

Ubbe laughed curtly. “You are so immature.” 

You looked at Ubbe sharply, silently signaling him to shut his mouth. Your comment had not come out the way you intended, but the important thing was that it was working and Ivar was loosening up. You called on a thrall and told her to get you what you needed and you started working. And after you were done braiding his locks you placed a butterfly kiss on the top of his head before standing up. In response, Ivar grabbed your hand and placed several territorial kisses on your wrist while you spoke.

“I think it is time I go to bed.” It had been a long and tortuous day.

Ubbe lifted his head from his whittling: “Let me walk you back to your chambers.”

You were about to open your mouth to say it was not necessary but then you remembered that there were way too many drunk and lusty soldiers roaming the house tonight. You doubted any would dare to bother you or the servants - what with the threat of having the brothers after them - but still, you could never be too careful.

Last week one of Hvitserk’s older soldiers had been eyeing you persistently and you had ran into him at more than a handful of places, so much so that it was starting to get uncomfortable. You had told Hvitserk out of precaution and the next day you found out the soldier had been given 20 lashes for an unknown crime but you knew very well what had happened...

“I would... like that. Thank you.”

He smiled sweetly and Ivar let go of your hand to squint his eyes at him and give him a warning: “I want you back here in five minutes, Ubbe. Otherwise, I am going after you.”

You and Ubbe rolled your eyes. Ivar could be such a pain in the ass. Still, you bent down and planted another kiss on his forehead which seemed to calm him down a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first Ivar fic somehow has turned out to be more of a Hvitserk fest. I think I'll eventually turn it around, but no promises!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ubbe makes a comment that surprises you an Ivar decides to spend the night in your room to protect your honor.

You silently walked down the hallway the short distance to your chambers but soon Ubbe felt the need to comment out of nowhere: “You know… I believe he has been in love with you since you were five.” He chuckled lowly and glanced at you. 

You stopped walking suddenly. In the bright moonlight, there was no hiding the color that flushed your cheeks.

“I beg your pardon?” 

It was not the first time you heard something of the sort, but you had always discredited it as jokes, as crosstalk between brothers because they always seemed to come from their many conversations to try to embarrass you or Ivar. But it was the first time you heard one of them openly say it to your face. 

You continued when he did not speak further: “Has he… said anything?” 

You were not even sure you wanted to hear the answer to that. After all, he was your closest friend and that was all he was ever going to be, right? Even if sometimes you doubted the nature of your relationship and questioned your unhealthy closeness or the unconditional love you had for him. Some days you wondered if perhaps you were in love with him and just had not realized it yet. 

You did not have anything to compare it to, so it is not as if you could pull from experience; you just knew that he was embedded deeply in your soul. He had taken a big part of your heart - they all had - but your relationship with Ivar had always been special. The prospect of hearing a positive answer from Ubbe made your heart beat erratically and you felt curious in a twisted sort of way. Upon hearing his answer though, you could not help but feel disappointed.

“Well, you know he is a difficult person, Y/N. And he plays this game of hiding his true intentions very well. Still, I can see through the cracks in his walls sometimes… You want to know what else I think?” He continued without giving you time to answer: “I think he is too scared of you to tell you… I mean, I do not blame him.” Ubbe added as an afterthought, more to himself than anything. 

You furrowed your brow at that. You clasped your hands in front of you and considered your next words carefully.

“That... cannot be possible. He would never be with someone like me.”

“How do you know? I do not think he has even been with anyone so it is not as if there were any precedents… And what are you talking about, Y/N? You are beautiful.” Ubbe said sincerely and ran his thumb against your cheek chastely.

“What are you two doing?” You heard the floorboards creaking under you and felt the unmistakable presence of Ivar moving on the ground next to you. You were still standing on the same spot in the hallway, not many steps away from the Great Hall, in fact. “I told you I would come looking for you.” He said ominously.

“We were just talking about today.” Ubbe retorted calmly.

“That is not what I heard. Do not cross the line, brother.” Ivar warned and cocked his head to the side. He smiled without humor.

“Let us walk back. I am truly exhausted.” You interrupted trying to shift the subject before it escalated into one of their brotherly arguments.

You walked the rest of the path in silence, rummaging over Ubbe’s words, especially those concerning Ivar. You all slowed down to a stroll to allow Ivar to keep up. You stumbled upon a few drunk soldiers on the way and you were glad you decided to not walk back alone. 

Upon reaching the doorframe of your bedchamber you turned to the brothers to say goodnight but Ivar spoke to you informing you of his intention to stay — rather than asking, as he usually did when it was just the two of you and he wanted to spend the night in your room. “I am staying tonight.”

You sighed and protested: “Ivar…”

“There are too many strange men in this house. I am not leaving  _ you _ , Y/N, a maiden, alone.” He argued soundly. “And apparently, not even family can be trusted anymore.” He added mordant.

“I will be fine inside if I just lock the door-”

“I said I am staying.” He repeated in a measured tone and smiled tersely. You could tell his temper was starting to simmer underneath the surface and you decided not to push it. You wondered if he was not doing this just to outdo his brother and symbolically have the last word.

You searched for Ubbe’s eyes in the dark in silent acknowledgment of the conversation you had left unfinished. 

He nodded laconically and uttered: “Goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight, brother.” Your conversation would have to wait for another time.

Once inside you walked over to the bed and collapsed on top of the pelts. You heard the door being closed and bolted after a few seconds, signaling that Ivar had entered the room. He crawled in silence to the foot of the bed and lit the candles there. Eventually, you sat back again and took off your shoes before deciding to leave your dress on and laying back on the bed. Usually, on humid summer nights like this, you would sleep with a very light nightgown on or in particularly hot ones, even naked. 

But with Ivar in the room, there really was not much choice. You were a decent girl who had been raised right and you always kept your manners in check. And even if the servant girls probably already thought you were sleeping with Ivar due to him staying over most nights of the week in your room, you refused to stoop that low. There was nothing sexual about your relationship and so they could gossip all they wanted but your conscience was clear.

He had not said a word since he came in. You could tell his mood was somewhere between puzzled and embarrassed now that his brothers were gone and there were only the two of you. Puzzled, because he was probably dying to know what that conversation in the hallway with Ubbe had been about; and embarrassed, because he knew you knew that he did not have to stay tonight, or at least that his reason for staying was more out of pride than out of legitimate concern. If you wanted to, you could start an argument and probably get him to admit it so he was tensely waiting for you to say something. 

When you did not, however, he climbed into your bed and took off his shirt in silence. He had sweat beads running down his broad chest. At this point you had gotten used to seeing him shirtless, even if it did make you uneasy in the beginning. Still, you refused to change into something more comfortable in his presence. For minutes you shifted and scratched your arms because the heavy fabric of your long-sleeved dress kept brushing and itching against your skin. You started feeling sweaty in the crook of your neck and eventually, you had droplets of sweat trailing down your body as well.

“Y/N?” You heard Ivar call your name.

“Yes?”

“Are you alright? I can feel you moving...”

“I am fine.” You replied abruptly.

Some more time passed before you finally decided you had had enough. You rose and stood by the foot of the bed with an arm posed on your hip.

“You need to go, Ivar. Now.” Your voice was tense.

“What is happening?” He sat back on the bed suddenly alert. His brow furrowed. Maybe you were finally going to snap at him for his invidious ways.

“I cannot have you here.”

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” He said in a small voice, hurt masquerading underneath his tone.

“This heat is unbearable. I cannot sleep with this dress on.” You said defeated.

His scowl morphed into a slight smile. He was safe. “Then change into something else. I do not understand...”

“Well, I cannot change into my night shift with you here.” You said as if it were evident. Whenever he stayed, you always slept on your day dress.

“Are you worried about what the thralls are going to think?” Ivar inquired, trying and failing to hide a smirk.

You looked to the side and did not reply, which, as you both knew, was answer enough.

He burst out laughing. “Oh, my darling. They already think that.”

“Exactly! I will not give them genuine reasons.”

“Who cares what those silly little girls think? I am Ivar Ragnarsson, Prince of Kattegat. I can do what I want. And you are under my protection...” He stated matter-of-factly. “Come on, just change.” When he saw your expression of disgust had not disappeared, he continued: “Or suffocate in that dress. See if I care. I will be here sleeping soundly and coolly.” He teased and plopped his head back on the pillow before closing his eyes.

Sometimes his taunts worked on you, yet neither of you was truly expecting this to be one of those times. But common sense finally beat your prudishness. When Ivar heard the rustling of your dress against your skin, his eyes sprang open and he supported his body on his elbows to look at where you were standing and you stepped into the shadows to slide off your dress. 

You put a hand over your breasts swiftly, even though the darkness on the other side of the room covered you. You felt the closest chair in the dark for the thin white gown you usually left by that corner and you finally slid it on. When you were covered, you walked back to bed, rouge coloring your cheeks slightly while you tried to convince yourself that it was fine, that this sort of arrangement was probably commonplace with many other people.

You were sure that the boys had seen each other in various stages of nakedness and it was perfectly okay. You were familiar, there was nothing strange about it, right? Or maybe it just made it weirder, but you truly had no option. He was not leaving and there was no sleeping with the temperature like that. You stole a look down Ivar’s way for a split second and suddenly wished you had not. 

He had the strangest look you had ever seen on his face: a mix of nervousness, confusion, curiosity, amusement, and something else you could not quite place, but his habitually brilliant eyes were gleaming in the dark more intensely than before. Your insecurities about your body were starting to bubble up, this was way out of your comfort zone and you suddenly felt like the biggest idiot. This was the most skin you had ever shown anyone...

“If you mention this to anyone I will cut your throat, Ivar.”

You felt rather than heard him chuckling before he threw himself back on the bed. 

“I would not dream of it,  _ dýrr _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dýrr = dear


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up cramping and Björn comforts you, and afterwards you help Hvitserk take a bath.

After having breakfast, or rather skimming through a plate of oats because of your lack of appetite, you made your way into the hall. You walked along the house trying to move your aching legs until you stumbled upon the boys all reunited in Hvitserk's room. You could hear their laughs from outside the door. On these particular days of the month, you steered clear of them. You got much too sensitive and your thin skin became even thinner. Everything made you cry and you normally were in so much pain that you did not even want to get up from the bed. 

Lately, you were been trying to move around to see if it would improve your pains or at least help you not become so isolated. It went against your instincts at the moment, but you knew it was not good to be holed up in your room for so many days on end. In the end, you decided to go inside because you saw that Bjørn had arrived from his hunting trip and you had not seen him in months. 

“Nalle!” You exclaimed and threw yourself on him, forgetting the pain on your lower body as you passed your arms around his neck. 

You figured he recognized your voice because otherwise, you would not have been able to even get near him. He hated getting sneaked upon but you routinely ignored it, as much as you ignored his no-hugs rule. Over time he had stopped fighting you and gave in. You gave him a loud kiss on the cheek before he turned around smiling and stood up, lifting you off the ground with ease for a bear hug. Everyone was looking at you two. 

“Ow. Ow. Put me down.”

“Did I hurt you?” 

“No. It is not your... fault.” You breathed out before adding quickly: “I am so happy you are back! I missed you so much.” You smiled genuinely.

“I missed you too, Y/N.” 

“Liar!” You replied laughing. “The great Bjørn Ironside does not miss anybody.”

He smirked. “Maybe for you I make an exception.”

“I am only half inclined to believe you.” You beamed.

“Will you two stop already?” Ivar sighed and rolled his eyes contentiously. “You bore me.”

You saw him for the first time since last night and suddenly remembered you had stripped to your underwear in front of him. At the same time, you realized you had also gotten your period this morning. Hopefully, he had not noticed it before he left your room. The thralls that changed your sheets most probably did and they were probably thinking you had lost your virginity last night. You would have to deal with them later. In any case, you decided to ignore Ivar. 

“How are you, Hvitty?” You turned to the blond who was half sitting on his bed with two pillows fluffed behind his back. 

He smiled when you gave him a small kiss on the cheek: “I am good, thanks to you, Y/N.” 

He did not look yellowish or sick, usual tells of sickness, and his bandages were not soaked in blood so that was a good sign. You made a mental note to change them later in the day.

“We were just filling in Bjørn on Hvitserk’s victory.” Ubbe said with earnest eyes. “Please, sit down and join us, Y/N. There is plenty of room.” 

You looked around and saw them all arranged around Hvitserk’s chamber. Bjørn sat back down on the floor among a couple of cushions. In turn, Ivar was leaning against the side of Hvitserk’s bed but facing in Bjørn’s direction and Ubbe was sitting at the foot of the bed with his body oriented towards Lagertha’s son as well. You decided to sit next to Bjørn; you missed him dearly. Besides, you were feeling incredibly under the weather and he was strong and warm like a big bear, just what you needed. 

He offered a hand to stabilize you while you bent down when he saw that you meant to sit next to him and you took it. You wasted no time and cuddled into his right side, twisting an arm needily around his arm and reclining your head against his shoulder. Instinctively, Bjørn opened his arm and pulled you in so you were more comfortable, your head resting against his chest now. 

The conversation retook and you closed your eyes, not really joining in but rather just listening to their stories. You opened your eyes for a second while readjusting yourself and saw Ivar’s eyes staring intently at you. You held his gaze back in silent conversation as you shifted your body. He looked like he was about to pounce on you for daring to choose his brother over him but you did not care about his temper tantrums today. You were in too much pain to give a damn about anyone else but you. Not everything had to be about him. 

You brought your knees up to your chest and leaned against Bjørn again. Your pain had only gotten worse since you sat down so you tried breathing out of your nose steadily. A particularly nasty pang hit you and you did not realize you had whined out loud until the room grew suddenly silent.

“Y/N?” It was Ivar who spoke. “Y/N!” 

“Hm?” You retorted, your face contorting unwillingly.

“What is wrong, dove?” Somebody asked, probably Hvitserk.

“Nothing, nothing.” Your voice sounded strangely strained. “I am just… bleeding…” 

“Are you hurt? Why are you- oh.” Ivar started but then he realized what you meant. You did not turn to see his expression.

“Nalle, can you rub my back? It hurts so much.” You pleaded. Tears were stinging your eyes so you closed them and laid your head on his lap to give him better access. You really hated crying in front of them but this was a little out of your control.

“Of course. Just relax, sweetheart.” Bjørn answered and promptly extended his arm to massage your back gently. 

For a man with such rough hands, he sure could be delicate when he wanted to. You kept focusing on your breathing and a few minutes of laying like that helped immensely with the pain. Ubbe started talking again, about some thing or another, no doubt to take the focus off you and give you what privacy he could afford and you loved him for it. He knew how easily you could be embarrassed. It was not long before you succumbed to sleep, your body taking pity on you and letting you rest for a while in Bjørn’s care.

\---

When you woke up all the brothers had left, except Hvitserk who was lying against his pillows with his gaze firmly directed at the ceiling. You sat up and he looked at you smiling, glad that he could talk to someone while confined to his bed. He was a bit of a hyperactive wolf pup, so laying down for so long was torture for him, no doubt.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I am.” You sighed.

“Good... They all had things to do.” He said when he saw your expression of confusion. “Actually, Y/N, I was going to ask you to help me with… something.” He looked sort of self-conscious. 

“Of course, what do you need?” You rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the sleep off them.

“Um… I was wondering if you could help me take a bath. I have not cleaned up since yesterday and I smell... pretty awful.” He propped up in bed with one elbow and gripped his right side intuitively, trying to keep the stitches from popping open. 

“Sure!” You rushed to say thinking that his bath was definitely overdue and he had limited mobility and you should be a good friend, but then realized this meant you would have to see him naked. Color rushed up to your cheeks and he looked at you with a curious expression.  _ Perhaps you should ask the slaves.  _ Those should have been your words. But now you had to go through with it. 

You stood up and helped him sit up straight. Then, when he felt like he could stand up, he leaned his body weight on you for support. You called on the servants to help you set up his bath and bring you some clean bandages and herbs for later. Hvitserk sat on a stool next to the tub, looking to the ground while you all fussed around, somehow lost in thought. 

When you were done preparing the bath, you tested the water with your fingertips, making sure it was not too hot for his skin. The servants helped him get up this time. He lifted his arms up like a baby and one of the girls took off his shirt and he smirked. 

She awkwardly stopped and looked up at him as if asking for permission to continue undressing him. 

“Go on.” 

The look they exchanged was heavily charged. You vividly remembered accidentally seeing Hvitserk devouring her crotch in the woods one afternoon. He had had so many thralls it was hard to keep up, but you could swear this was Margrethe, his favorite. He really was going to make her undress him. Granted, he needed some help, but some things he could have done on his own. Still, you turned your gaze away until you were sure he was sitting inside the tub.

“Leave us.” He ordered.

Margrethe held his gaze for a second and pursed her lips into a straight line. The servants all filtered out after the peep show, dragging their feet heavily behind them and she was the last one to leave, darting her eyes to you for the briefest of moments before leaving. The door closed and you made your way to him. 

“Stay still, please.” 

He nodded.

You grabbed a scrubbing towel and rubbed the dirt off his freckled shoulders and back. You worked your way down to his navel, carefully cleaning around his wound then moved on to his arms and hands. Hvitserk had gotten bigger over the last few months since he was training and fighting almost constantly. His chest was toned and terse. His arms had delicate veins delineated against his porcelain skin and his abdomen was incredibly taut. 

He was no longer a small boy. None of you were the children you were when you first met all those years ago. Your mind wandered to the past and you let it, anything to distract you from the task at hand, or rather, this intimate moment between you. You somehow felt both uneasy and at ease. Even if he was perpetually flirting with every girl he laid eyes upon, you knew he respected you enough to not attempt anything now, but you still felt equal parts curious and apprehensive of his body. You could not say you were completely immune to his charms but the feeling made you want to bolt for the door. 

You grabbed a small cup and soaked his long hair. You undid his braids leisurely and washed his hair; he purred low when you massaged his head with your fingertips and you could not help but smile. It must feel so good to have someone wash your hair like that. Then you wrung it with care and the bath was done. 

All of a sudden you heard the sound of the door being opened and you looked around to see a grave-looking Ivar staring at you both. He merely scoffed and spat: “So they were not lying… Y/N, outside. Now.”

You debated disobeying his order but in the end, you followed him outside, mentally preparing for the temper tantrum he was surely going to throw.

“Why do you keep doing this?”

“Doing  _ what _ exactly, Ivar?”

“You insist on mocking me.”

“Mocking you?!”

“You seem bent on making a big display out of your affection for my brothers. The thralls are starting to talk, you know.” He said bitingly. 

“I am not-” Your voice rose an octave and you stopped yourself. You breathed in deep before continuing. “I thought you did not care about their gossip. And frankly, I do not know where this is coming from. I treat them the same way I always have.”

“You never let me touch you the way Bjørn touched you today!”

“My body ached, he was just helping ease my pain!”

“You have never bathed Hvitserk before!”

“He has never been wounded this badly before!” You retorted.

“And I am sure you were about to kiss Ubbe last night!”

“What?!” You asked, extremely confused. You decided that trying to convince him otherwise was probably futile so you chose to ask him instead: “Why are you so angry, Ivar?”

“Because I thought that your relationship with me was special. But if you are more intimate, more… loving-” he gestured with his hand in the air. “-with them than you are with me, if you are just going to whore yourself around to all of my brothers then… what do I keep you for?” Ivar punctuated in his slow drawl, ice-cold as usual and barely raising his voice above his habitual tone.

You could scarcely believe your ears. Your best friend had called you a whore and his possession in the same breath. 

“ _ Keep _ me?” You scoffed. “And is that what you think of me?”

He nodded with his head even if his eyes faltered when they met yours. Sometimes he said things and regretted them the second the words left his mouth. He rarely admitted defeat or error out loud but he had his tells. And the way he recoiled imperceptibly when you spoke again was one of them, whether, by the fact you did not stay silent against his prodding tongue, or because of the content of your words, you could not tell.

“How dare you speak to me like that, Ivar? I am not your possession. Do not talk about me as if I were a piece of furniture. You have no right over me, you petulant child.” You spat out angrily. “I am not your sister...” You took a pause. “Nor am I your wife.” 

Ivar flinched at the disgust coloring your face, his resolve dissolving. Your feet drew closer to the nearest exit. You suddenly realized Ubbe was standing there as well. You stormed out of the room, your dress rustling heavily behind you, and Ubbe wasted no time in trailing after you.

“Y/N! Wait a moment.”

You stopped and let him speak.

“He did not mean that. You know how he gets when he is upset.” He tried to defend his brother for some reason.

Your eyes were shooting daggers at him. “I am exhausted, Ubbe. I cannot keep wasting my time, reassuring his ego every so often that he is the center of my universe. I cannot.” Tears welled up behind your eyes but you abstained from spilling them. “I do not understand how he could even say something like that.” You shook your head.

“He does not know how to treat a woman. Or anyone for that matter. But I am sure he loves you… That much I know.” He grabbed your hands warmly in between his and kissed them reassuringly. 

The look in his kind eyes made you break into tears at last and you threw yourself in his arms, sobbing quietly against his strong chest as he consoled you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nalle = bear; it's a nickname for people named Bjørn :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You ask Hvitserk to do you a small favor.

It had been a few days since you had last seen the brothers. You had been staying in your room and were notoriously missing from every meal. You did not roam the hallways during the day anymore, subsisting from the food the thralls brought you. You were incredibly bored and had nothing to do except cry and think about the words the person you thought was your best friend had told you before your world came crashing down. You had fought before but never as bad as this. 

Today, however, you decided to go out. You had heard the servants talking about how the brothers would be leaving for the week to visit a nearby village in order to raise support for their upcoming spring raid. And so, you stepped out of your room and walked outside around Kattegat’s pathways, your body relishing the exercise. While eyeing some fruits on a marketplace stand, something brushed against your side and you realized there were cold fingers touching you. 

You followed the trail of the arm until you saw the owner. It was the soldier who had followed you and made you incredibly uneasy a while ago before Hvitserk flogged him and no doubt threatened his life. Apparently, the message had not been clear enough.

“Well, look at you, Y/N. I never thought I would get a chance to tell you face to face how much you humiliated me, sending that boy to slight me.”

“That  _ boy  _ is the commander of your army. Have some respect.” You spat out and looked at the fingers holding your arm in disgust before you violently tore your arm from his grip. You knew it was wrong but on some level, you felt more insulted by his jabs at Hvitserk than by his proximity. 

“And yet, that boy is not here to watch out for you now, is he?” He leered at your chest and pressed his body against you, his huge frame pinning you against the grocery cart. “I cannot wait to see what is underneath that dress.”

You squirmed and trashed and his face drew closer to yours and as he was about to forcefully kiss you, you felt his body thrust against yours with force and then saw his face contorted into an expression halfway between pain and surprise. You gazed upon his chest and saw the long tip of a sword protruding from in between one of his ribs, then saw the blond tresses of Hvitserk clearly delineated against the Kattegat sun. The man fell to his knees in front of you and a weight lifted off your chest when he was finally off you.

“Think again.” Hvitserk exclaimed and withdrew his sword from his back in one clean swipe, his feet pushing against the heavy frame of the soldier to tug on the weapon. He walked around him until he was able to face him and he continued in a deliberate tone: “This will be the last time you ever lay hands on Y/N”. And with those words, the man fell to the ground with a thump.

\--

“Hvitserk!” You yelled at the blond. 

He looked at you from his seat next to his brothers. They were all gathered around the table after dinner. You interrupted their conversation just to call on him. The table grew silent and they all posed their eyes on you. Ivar’s gaze was particularly intense, especially after he felt Ubbe and Bjørn’s eyes dart furtively at him. Even Margrethe stopped pouring wine and stared at you, defiant in her silence.

Hvitserk knew something was off about your tone immediately. His eyes widened. “Oh... What did I do now?” 

“Nothing.” Your expression softened and you put on a smile for him. “Nothing,my darling. I just need to speak to you. Urgently...” You added and raised an eyebrow. In truth, it was not a life or death situation, you simply did not want to wait any longer.

“Of course, dove.” He stood up and put his napkin back on the table then followed you back to your room as you led the way. When you did not stop on the door but instead kept walking, he squinted his eyes at you. 

“Let us go to your room instead.” You suggested and he nodded. You knew you had less of a chance of being interrupted by the thralls in there. At least for him they knocked. The door closed behind you and you took the liberty of sitting on the edge of his bed. He mirrored you and sat flush to your body.

“Is everything alright with you, Y/N?”

You nodded. 

“Is this about what happened a few days ago? I know your feelings on cold-blooded murder but he was not going to stop!” Hvitserk rationalized. 

And even if you were still a bit shaken up about that encounter, your thoughts were far from feeling sorry about the man. He had sealed his own fate. But rather, his insistence on having you had made you think about your own needs and how they were not being met exactly. So you shook your head.

“What I am about to ask might sound a bit… odd.” You started sheepishly. “But I just… I guess I want to know if your offer still stands.” 

“My offer? What offer?” His curious eyes crinkled at the edges.

Your pride was about to take a dive. “Do you remember that time you… kissed me?” You asked red-faced, avoiding his glinting green eyes.

He chuckled and teased you: “Perfectly well.”

“As the gods willed it-“ You gritted your teeth before continuing. “-it was the first time anyone had kissed me. And I… want you to do it again. I am tired of waiting for something to happen. I want to know what it feels like to be kissed properly. I do not know how long it is going to be before I am with someone and I figured I would ask you because I know you and I... trust you-” You rambled on trying to rationalize your desires. 

His gaze scanned your face at least twice while you were talking before he dived in, fully interrupting you. He pecked at your lips eagerly but suddenly stopped. You could feel his embarrassment.

He stayed still and whispered: “Sorry.” Then he smiled adoringly sweet and left you to take the lead. “By all means, use me.” 

And even though you could take objection to his choice of words, you leaned in and brushed your lips tentatively against his soft ones. You pulled back but stayed very close to his mouth, breathing in sync with him. He was in no hurry to devour you and you wondered whether he was savoring the moment, having second thoughts or if perhaps you were not attractive enough to do it for him. The seconds dragged on slowly before Hvitserk closed the minimal distance between you and kissed your plump lips again. 

This time he deepened the kiss leisurely, taking his time to massage his tongue against your mouth, silently asking yours to part and let him in, and you did. He passed an arm behind your neck and gently moved your head toward him, deepening the kiss even more. You could scarcely breathe while he drank from your lips as if you were a chalice he had to consume in its entirety. 

You came up for air and decided you had not had enough yet so you stood up. Feeling abruptly emboldened, y0u positioned your body in front of him. His hands glided against your face, cupping your cheeks with feather fingers. You lifted one knee to put it next to his thigh, then the other against his other leg until you were straddling him the way you had seen the servants straddle him before. 

Hvitserk’s hands trailed down your body, stabilizing you until he was sure you were not going to lose your footing. Once you were sitting on his lap, you realized that the spot where your bodies met emanated pure heat. He grabbed your hips underneath the skirt of your dress and squeezed on the soft flesh there again and again. He passed his hands down your bountiful thighs and he massaged them leisurely.

You had always been self-conscious about your thighs but you could not deny how good it felt to be touched so adoringly. He raised one of his hands to your face and he caressed your chin with his thumb and index finger, his lips never stopping his ministrations on your already swollen lips. He was incredibly gentle with you and you thanked him mentally for his perennial affection. 

But you needed more, so you kissed him harder, wishing on a whim he would be rougher, somehow dirtier. You took his bottom lip in your teeth and rolled it sweetly again and again and then sank your teeth into them drawing blood. The metallic taste was not exactly repelling - not when it came from his mouth - much to your dismay. You barely recognized yourself lately. 

He stopped the kiss and lifted his fingers up to where you had bled him. You looked at him innocently, thinking that maybe that way he would not get mad at you, but he smiled instead, anger very low on his list of priorities. His other hand grabbed your waist harshly and made you turn your back towards the bed and he fell on top of you. 

“I have a feeling you want more.” Hvitserk took your hands and lifted them above your head inside his inescapable grip. He stared you down until you felt the blood pooling in your cheeks. You nodded feverishly yet avoided his gaze. “I cannot hear you.” He was going to make you say it. 

“I want more, please.” You pleaded in a haze. Being in his arms felt too good to give it up so quickly. 

He kissed your mouth once again before lowering his head to your chest and kissing you there. He tugged at the front of your dress until it ripped open and then planted another kiss on your spilling breasts. You closed your eyes and concentrated on the feeling of his warm lips on your skin.

“D-do that again.”

You felt his smile tingling against you and he was more than happy to oblige. Joining his mouth there were his tongue and his dexterous hands. His tongue was tracing circles on your skin before biting your neck ravenously again and again and leaving a wet trail that felt cold as soon as the night air hit it. Your mouth made sounds against your will and your chest felt about to burst from the inside out. The sensations in your body were too much. One of his hands slid past the skirt of your dress but you refused to give him access even if you desperately wanted to.

Eventually, Hvitserk separated from you to say he wanted to see you naked. No. Rather, he needed it, he clarified. Then he resorted to begging: “Please, Y/N. Please.”

And who could deny him when he asked so sweetly? Your face was on fire and you were sure you would regret this but you took a hand to the front of your dress and tugged at the tear he had made minutes ago until he lent you a hand to split it open all the way down to your navel. He helped take the cumbersome fabric off you and he sat back on his thighs to look at you. 

You knew only seconds before he had seen you, but you were feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, so you put an arm across your breasts and another one covering your belly and you sat with your knees up so he could not see your torso. Still, he took in the sight of you while you tried to avoid his piercing eyes. His gaze wandered all over you and he bit his lip lustfully.

Hvitserk leaned in, approaching you carefully as if you were a scared deer - his precious prey - and kissed your shoulder once. “It is okay, Y/N.” 

“I have never done this. I do not know what to do.” You said in a small voice.

“There is a first time for everything.” He kissed your other shoulder chuckling then he turned his face to look at you. He grabbed your face to make you really look at him. “Why are you covering up now?”

“I am not like those other girls you have had before. I am not-”

“It does not matter to me.”

You shook your head in disbelief.

“Hey, Y/N. It does not matter, truthfully. You are so beautiful. Y-you have no idea how badly I wanted to have you like this.” His breath faltered.

“You are just saying that because you want to lay with me.”

“I  _ do _ want to but… is that not enough to tell you how attractive I find you?” He laughed a little.

“You have slept with every servant so, not really…” You replied sarcastically.

Hvitserk’s expression fell and he looked like he was thinking about replying but he probably knew you would win that argument. 

He answered in a still voice instead: “We do not have to do anything if you feel this uncomfortable, Y/N. I can just… kiss you. Would you like that?” He offered.

You looked at him from behind your thick curly lashes and nodded. In no time, he took off his shirt and reclined gently and slowly against your body. Then he put the covers on top of you both and pressed his lips against yours once again. For now, his mouth was heaven enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You look for an excuse to have Hvitserk alone and all to yourself for a while.

While walking down the corridor you felt a pair of quick hands grabbing your elbows. When you turned around someone planted a big kiss on your lips. You thought you had seen Hvitserk’s braids briefly but you were not sure. When the person pulled away though, you confirmed it was the blond. You sighed in relief, even if you were slightly annoyed at him sneaking up on you like that. 

Ever since that night you had spent in his room, he had taken up the habit of kissing you out of the blue. At any given moment, he would spring from corners and doors - always careful you were alone - and he would offer his mouth to you, sometimes quickly, sometimes demandingly, sometimes slow and sweet, but always furtively. 

You had forgotten about Ivar and lately, all you could think about was Hvitserk; his soft pink lips, his beautiful blonde tresses, his cocky grin, his confident hands, his velvety voice rumbling close to your ear. During dinner he would sit across from you and shower you with looks; he would make more than his occasional casual compliment to you, and you could not hold back from smiling in silence and basking in his adoration, as the other brothers stared at you befuddled at how little resistance you were showing lately. 

And naturally, Ivar could barely keep it together. You were still not talking, so you knew he would never speak up about it now, but you could tell he was bursting at the seams; his gaze seemed more askew, his demeanor towards the thralls harsher, his biting comments against his brothers somehow more acidic. He spat venom against anyone who dared sigh the wrong way lately, and you were sure your personal rift was to blame as much as Hvitserk’s behavior around you.

Over the weeks your relationship with Hvitserk deepened. He visited your room often and even spent the night on a few occasions. Nothing had actually happened so far, save for kisses and caresses while you sat on his lap, often feeding him sugared fruits from your hand. You loved hearing the involuntary sounds he made deep inside his throat, how his eyes always looked a bit unfocused, his chest heaving up and down while you kissed him with your honeyed lips. 

All of this could only signify one thing, though. If you had that much allure in his eyes, then maybe he had been telling the truth. You were still reluctant about letting him have his way with you. And not because you did not want to, but rather because you were too insecure. Still, you wanted to at least try to get over your qualms and now seemed as good a time as any, so you walked outside to the courtyard where you knew Hvitserk was training, clashing swords against Ubbe, while Bjørn supervised. 

He was overseeing his brothers’ fight, occasionally nodding or yelling orders at them emphatically. You kissed Bjørn’s temple affectionately before standing next to him in the mud as there was nowhere to sit. He smiled at your presence and grabbed you by your waist and legs to lift you off the ground. You yelped loudly before he set you down on his lap, laughing at your protests.

“Sit down. Do not ruin your dress.” He ordered and you obeyed. Whenever he spoke, there was rarely any room for debate. You saw Hvitserk looking at you from the corner of his eye and Ubbe used the small distraction to give him such a blow that he fell down into the muck. 

He groaned out loud before laughing: “You bastard!”

“Keep your head straight, brother. Stay focused. And never hesitate.” Ubbe retorted, while crouching and leaning the palms of his hands against his knees. He lent Hvitserk a hand to help him stand up and they walked over to where you were sitting.

All the while Bjørn, with a neutral face feigning innocence slipped his hand around your waist to tickle your ribs surreptitiously. He knew you were incredibly sensitive there and in no time you were chuckling and squirming, trying to scurry away from his roughened hands while he broke into a mischievous smile. 

“No, Nalle, stop. Stop!”

Hvitserk dropped his gaze on you still sitting on his brother’s lap and he raised an eyebrow amused. As you thrashed around inside Bjørn’s arms, you inadvertently saw Ivar sitting by the goldsmith’s shop entrance. He was whittling his ax with an unwavering focus until he heard your laughs and playful screams resonating in the air. He turned toward you and you averted your eyes quickly, fully intending to ignore him, but still, you felt the force of his fiery stare on all of you.

“I have to say, I am feeling a little insulted.” Hvitserk started, still pretending he had an unrequited crush on you.

Bjørn stopped messing with you. He readjusted you on his grip and returned to his usual graven self. 

“Considering I am not your woman, I really do not see why.” You teased. 

“I have been begging you to give me a chance for years, Y/N.” Hvitserk lifted his eyebrows and laughed. “I even thought I was making steady progress.” 

“Whatever gave you that idea?” 

“Oh, do not go denying me now. Remember you came to my room begging?” He winked at you. 

Hvitserk liked playing with fire. You both knew Ivar was within earshot and he must have heard that. The wind in the courtyard carried the voices easily.

“You are confusing me with one of your submissive little slaves.” You said in a mocking simpering voice.

Ubbe sucked in air through his teeth and chuckled. “Ooh, brother. Do not try that again.” 

You feigned innocence well.

“Oh, that is right. My bad. Well, it was worth the try.” He shrugged.

“That is never going to happen. But maybe you can make yourself useful.” You suggested, still sitting on Bjørn’s lap, trying to find an excuse to take him away for the afternoon. You did not want to risk being discovered inside the house. Not with what you had in mind.

“What do you need, dove?”

“I need…” You sighed. “...a breath of fresh air. Walk around... Maybe visit that lovely waterfall across the fern bushes. I know you must be tired, but I was wondering if you could come with me…” You looked straight at Hvitserk but then decided to open up your offer so it would not look so suspicious. “Or any of you, actually. I still do not feel completely comfortable walking around on my own.” You glanced down at your intertwined hands resting on your lap.

“She is right. It is not good for Y/N to be alone around here. I still have not forgotten what that bastard tried to do. We should not let our guard down.” Ubbe interjected. “You should go with her, Hvitserk.” 

You shot a glance at Bjørn, silently asking his opinion. He nodded faintly.

Hvitserk looked into your eyes intently and clenched his jaw to suppress a smile. “Anything for you, milady.” 

He sheathed his sword and grabbed a small dagger - his own - from the mud. He took your fingers between his and kissed your knuckles, making a big show of his gallantry. Then he offered his hand to help you stand up and you took it, the heat already starting to spread to your cheeks in anticipation. You blushed incredibly easily so you turned your head to the side and found that Ivar was still looking at you, his lips contorted in disgust and his nostrils flaring like a dragon’s. Oh, he had definitely seen your reaction.

“What is this about, Y/N?” He whispered once you were sufficiently away to be out of earshot.

“Just follow me.” You moved your legs rapidly trying to get away from them and from Ivar as quickly as you could.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Hvitserk make love by the waterfall.

You walked for long minutes on end, talking leisurely about anything and everything. That was one thing you had always liked about him: you could speak for hours because he was a good conversation-maker naturally. Unlike Ivar, who only spoke when he felt contentious and had very little to offer aside from his sullen moods.

Talking was definitely helping ease your nerves. Once you reached the place, you made sure to let Hvitserk go in front of you. You stayed a few steps behind while he stood on a rock and admired the small rolling waterfall and you used the opportunity to remove your dress surreptitiously. It was now or never.

“So, are you finally going to tell me what this little trip is ab-?” Hvitserk turned around abruptly and froze in place. The words caught in his mouth and his eyes grew wide in a millisecond. 

You took your thumb up to your lip and bit your nails timidly. It was only the two of you for miles around, yet you still felt as exposed as if the whole of Kattegat was watching you.

“I am ready.” You declared, feeling emboldened. 

“Ready for?” Hvitserk’s eyes trailed up and down your skin, drinking you up.

“For you.” You could not stop the red from spreading across your cheeks and chest.

He kept scanning you up and down, your heavy breasts, your fleshy belly, your full hips, your plump thighs. He looked like you had just offered him a shortcut into Valhalla. “ That is… an offer I cannot refuse, Y/N. Are you sure this is what you want?” He mused, still not moving an inch closer to you. He was stuck to that damn rock.

“Please, come here, Hvitserk. I would rather feel your touch than your eyes on my body.” You explained through a pained breath and you closed your eyes momentarily from the embarrassment. 

His gaze found yours and he silently acknowledged your petition even if his eyes meant to say something else that never quite found its way to his lips. He started taking off his weapons first and threw them in between two rocks with a clash. His stained white shirt followed and finally, he brought his fingers to his belt and undid it in one swift motion, clearly used to undressing in a hurry. 

He discarded his clothes on a pile next to the shore and he walked up to you lifting you off the ground in his arms. You had no idea how he did it; usually, Bjørn was the only one who carried you. He walked you both to the ice-cold water, the frigid temperature making your skin crawl on immediate contact and you suppressed a shriek against your throat. In no time, Hvitserk took your lips in his to distract you and your mouth produced a moan which also drowned in the back of your throat. 

He set you down on the water; you could feel the small pebbles brushing against the naked soles of your feet. You wrapped your arms around Hvitserk’s neck and kissed him steadily, his right hand inched down your waist until it found a sweet spot near the swelling of your hips, his other hand, however, came down to grab a handful of your ass. He rolled the soft skin in between his fingers and you exhaled heavily. 

His fiery mouth slipped down your collarbone, his tongue swirling in circles around your pulse point. You closed your eyes, enjoying his playful tongue. You captured his lips briefly before he lowered his head to rest between your breasts. He smiled up at you, completely aware of how much you loved to feel his mouth there and you knew you had made the right choice to isolate yourself here with him because the way he made your body scream was increasingly hard to contain.

You made out slowly underneath the spraying mist of the waterfall, the sound drowning your reactions. When he bit your belly and grunted with lust against your skin, you felt it reverberating rather than properly heard it. His hands grabbed your torso possessively and your eyes squeezed shut but your mouth was open in heavy pants. 

And even if it felt good, you had that discomforting feeling again and you wished him to stop or at least redirect his ministrations elsewhere. Your hands grabbed a fistful of wet blond hair and pulled him up until your lips clashed and he grunted again, aware of what you were doing.

He pulled apart from your mouth a few inches and said: “Let me enjoy you, Y/N. All of you.” He scattered kisses on the crook of your neck. “Please. Just let me do it. I promise you will feel good. So so good.” He repeated in between kisses.

“I am sorry. I am s-”

“Do not be. I only need you to trust me.” 

He lifted you out of the water and suddenly you were sitting in the air, legs wrapped around his beautiful torso and his hands underneath your thighs supporting your weight. He started moving towards the shore until he laid you back down as gently as he could. He stood in front of you for a few breaths. His chest was rapidly heaving up and down in anticipation. 

For the first time since you had been fooling around, you saw him completely naked. Comparing him to a god would not do him justice. Marble-white skin ornate with slightly raised veins that throbbed underneath his erratic pulse. His hair stuck to his neck; thick droplets of water trailed down his lithe body. 

His toned thigh muscles jumped as he crouched and your gaze glowered, hazy with desire but unsure of how this was going to work out for you. He knelt in front of your legs and spread them with his merciless hands to come rest in between them. He resumed his kisses; they were hot and brazen against your ice-cold skin. You slid your fingers down his arms, feeling the muscles there as they tensed and relaxed; then you dragged them across his chest shyly. 

Hvitserk moved one hand to clutch your own. You opened your eyes lazily and looked into his pupils while he declared in a strange moment of emotion: “I want to be your first, Y/N. Your one...” He paused to kiss your lips. “...and only.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He grinned. “I thought I would never hear you say that.” He pressed his chest tightly against yours; you liked feeling his solid muscles rippling against you, you liked the lack of space between your bodies and his weight crushing you deliciously. But he kept stalling with his kisses.

“Hvitserk…” You warned.

“Mmm?” He played innocent while kissing your cheek, before chuckling and raising an eyebrow at you, silently asking for your permission one last time and you nodded through the thick fog of your desire. 

And even if you were in pain for the briefest of seconds, nothing could ever compare to the feeling of him crashing violently against you while your nails mauled at his forearms deeply, leaving gashing cuts for everyone to see, Ivar and the servants be damned. His inquisitive eyes never closed; they never left your face. Instead, they focused proudly on you as you experienced the depth of his desire for you, only for you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find out Ivar is getting married to another woman and Björn makes an amusing discovery.

A few weeks later, on your way to your room from the dressmaker, you walked past the fireplace; everyone was gathered there, huddled close to each other. You spotted Ubbe’s eyes following your steps and you stopped to look around. It had been a while since you interacted with all of them together so you decided to stay and not let your rift with Ivar drive you away from the rest of the brothers. Besides, you could not avoid him and his precious new possession - your replacement, you thought with disdain - forever. 

Instinctively, you glanced to the left side of the room looking for Ivar and your seat but you realized that: one, you were still mad at each other, and two, your spot had been literally taken by Freydis. She sat flush to him in the chair Ivar usually reserved for you. He was smirking openly, clearly so full of himself. But rather than walk past them, you went up to Hvitserk instead. 

You did not miss the way Ivar’s face fell at your impassive attitude. Hvitserk was sitting down on some cushions on the floor and he smiled brightly when you sat down on a chair behind him. He reposed his head on your knees to look up at you. Your fingers rested on his chest for a few seconds before tracing up his neck and his cheeks, then finally coming to stroke his lovely hair. 

After a few moments, he asked, voice raspy and eyes fluttering shut as if in a daze: “Where were you? I have not seen you today.” The rest of the room was engaged in conversation or at least pretending to. But you noticed Bjørn’s silent stare on you as you spoke to Hvitserk. 

“I went to my dressmaker.” You replied.

“Why?”

“Well, I need a new dress, honey.”

“What for?”

“For the Yul feast, of course.” 

Hvitserk’s eyes gleamed and he signaled you with his head to get closer to him so he could whisper in your ear. You leaned forward and bent your neck a little.

“You would look better naked with my head buried between your breasts...” He grinned and you pursed your lips in an effort to keep from smiling. “...but tell your dressmaker I am paying her.” He added in his normal tone.

“You do not have to.”

“Please, I insist.” 

Your hands kept scratching his chest, neck, and hair intermittently. 

“Thank you, sweetheart, but I can handle it.” You said, your voice soft and once again he smiled and told you to lean close. 

“It seems only fair since I promise you I will be ripping it off with my teeth by the end of the night.” 

Your eyes grew wide and you looked away shaking your head and smiling. “That is not very nice!”

“I thought you knew me already.” He shrugged lightly.

Bjørn had not lifted his gaze from you two and you wondered whether people were starting to suspect your relationship with Hvitserk. But this was nothing you did not do before. You were always very affectionate with all of the boys, chastely caressing, kissing, and cuddling with all of them. The only thing that had truly changed was that you did not do it with Ivar now.

“Forgive me, Y/N, but I am very curious as to what you and Hvitserk are talking about.” You heard Freydis speak with faked innocence. “You seem to be enjoying a good conversation. Maybe you could share it with us so all of our spirits will be lifted.” She smiled and in turn, your smile waned from your face. 

You hated everything about her, down to the sound of her shrill voice. You had despised her ever since she set foot in the house a couple of months ago, brought as a peace offering by King Harald. And by now you were starting to believe he merely wanted to get rid of her. Unfortunately, you had had sufficient time to confirm your suspicions about her being worse than any of the other slave girls; you had witnessed first hand how she had taken control of them all, rising through the ranks of their precarious hierarchy, crowning herself queen of the help. 

Every other girl feared her temper and how cruel she could be if anyone disobeyed her orders. She was mean, manipulative, and worse of all, she knew how to hide it. And whether by ignorance or lack of care, the boys had not done anything to put her back in her place before her boldness became an issue beyond the kitchen and the slave’s quarters. You had begged Ivar many times before to send her back to Harald but he - who usually listened to your every whim - dismissed your worries as paranoia. And sure as daylight, she had found a way to pose her tendrils on one of them... on  _ him  _ of all people. 

Your gaze intertwined with Hvitserk’s and he clenched his jaw in understanding before tilting his head upright and smirking dryly at her. He could not stand her either. “We would rather not share.”

“Are you sure, brother?” It was Ivar who spoke now. He had his sardonic voice on. “Remember there are no secrets in this family.” Oh, this was going to be a long night.

“It is a bit of an inside joke.” Hvitserk shot back nonchalantly. “And too long of a story to explain now. But why are you not entertaining us with one of  _ your  _ stories, Freydis? I would love to hear more about your newfound undying love for Ivar. I am sure it is a riveting tale.” Hvitserk’s words were dripping sarcasm.

Ivar scowled at his brother, ready to pounce, but Freydis, ever ready, managed to save the situation. “Of course. How could I pass on an opportunity to speak about my betrothed?” She said beaming a little too intensely to be sincere.

_ Betrothed? _ When had this happened exactly? She had barely been a free woman for a few weeks and she had already ensnared him? Although, to be fair, who could be sure who had ensnared whom? They were both vicious vipers perfect for each other, you thought with scorn, anger overflowing your heart. How could Ivar do this? Had he lost his mind? Did he not know that she only wanted what power he could give her? You felt a familiar sting in the back of your throat and decided to get up before snapping at them and Hvitserk followed suit.

“Hey, Y/N.” He softly called after you and grabbed your elbows.

“Did you know about this?” You asked sharply.

“Y-yes.” His gaze faltered when it met yours.

“Then why did you fail to tell me?”

“You were going to find out eventually...”

“I was going to find out eventually?!” You repeated incredulously, you felt a surge of rage coursing through your body. “Maybe I wanted to hear it from you and not from that snake!”

“I- I am sorry… I see now how keeping this from you was a bad idea.” He looked down at the floor. “I just did not want to bring him up and upset you. We have been so happy lately…” He traced off. “Besides, if he is that gullible as to believe her, then what can any of us do?” He scoffed.

“He is my best friend! Or was…” You corrected yourself. “And you are wrong, I know he can listen to reason. Somebody needs to tell him how bad an idea that is! Please, my love… You have to talk to him.” Your voice broke embarrassingly, your tears started flowing and Hvitserk’s hands found your face in that instant.

He bore his comforting green eyes into yours and sighed defeated before giving you a small peck on the lips.

“Please, tell me you will.” 

He moved his mouth across your cheeks and shushed you gently, trying to calm you down.

“I will. I will. Hey, Y/N. It is alright. I will talk to my stupid brother.” He kissed the tip of your nose sweetly.

“Do you promise?” You asked him in a small voice.

He brought your knuckles up to his mouth and kissed them. “I do.”

\--

You were reclining in the bathtub with Hvitserk sitting behind you, feeling totally exhausted, your head resting against his shoulder and his fingers tracing circles on your arms after a feverish afternoon making love on his bed. His lips and fingers always accomplished their mission of driving you to the edge of sanity. He could keep going for hours on end; changing the pace and reaching corners in your body you were not even aware existed. 

He kept finding new ways to please you and to keep his name on your parted lips - whenever he was not devouring them - until you lost track of time. After one of many such afternoons, you both needed a calming bath to wind down. The soft lapping of the water was lulling you to sleep until you heard footsteps on the floor and the door sprung open. 

“Hvitserk!” You heard a man’s voice and your eyes shot open. Bjørn entered unannounced and froze on the spot. 

Your gazes clashed and you were equally surprised to see the other there. After all this time being careful, you had been finally caught. There was no explaining this in a platonic way. And least of all to Bjørn.

Hvitserk shifted quickly and you sat up straight, bringing up both arms to cover your breasts. “Brother! You forgot how to knock?” He sounded royally pissed.

“I never had to with you. You never cared much if I saw you with one of the slaves.” Bjørn replied sternly and took his gaze off you for a moment, before looking at you again, unable to come to terms with what he was seeing.

“Can I help you with something, brother?” Hvitserk stood up and got off the tub, wrapping a cloth around his narrow waist.

“I came to give you shit about the sloppy job you did building the trenches today. But I can see now how your mind might have been otherwise  _ occupied _ . Maybe a bit too eager to come back home...” He suggested and leaned against the wall then crossed his arms across his massive chest, still looking dour.

You were sitting in the tub, feeling exposed, and not able to do much about it. You could not stand up to look for your clothes, wherever they were, or it would be worse. Bjørn’s eyes - which up until now had been resting on your face - practically ate you up with one look.

“And to be completely fair, I cannot exactly  _ blame _ you.” He made a gesture halfway between a smirk and a scoff.

“Stop ogling Y/N.” 

“How can I not? This moment merits all my attention.” By the sound of his voice, you could tell he was truly relishing the sight of you. “You know, Y/N, I picked you for an Ubbe kind of woman.” Bjørn continued in a lighter tone. “Not that you ever showed genuine interest in anyone  _ but  _ Ivar.” He mused. “But for what it is worth, I always thought you were much too good for him.”

You raised an eyebrow at his words.

“I cannot wait until he finds out, though.” He laughed out loud. Now that the shock was starting to wear off, he was clearly amused by the turn of events.

“He will not. Because we are not telling him.” Hvitserk punctuated. “Right?”

Bjørn shrugged and showed the palms of his hands, then he smirked and retorted: “Fine. He will not hear it from me. But if you ever get tired of this little boy and want to know what it is like to lay with a real man, you know where to find me, Y/N.” You could not believe it had taken you this long to notice that he had been drinking. “I will show you a good time.” He offered.

You saw as Hvitserk shoved him out of the bathroom and they started laughing. “Get out.”

“Come on, Hvitserk! You cannot handle all of that and you know it!” You heard Bjørn say from near the exit and their banter got lost in the night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a long overdue Ivar-heavy chapter coming soon...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter featuring Bjørn, I've had some comments saying they liked them together and I got inspired to write a small scene between them ;)

Even if Bjørn had exited the room laughing and saying he would not say anything to Ivar, you were incredibly worried about it so you went looking for him and found him just before he reached one of the doors that faced the patio. Hvitserk was nowhere in sight, he must have turned back to his room. You approached Bjørn from the back even if you should have known better than to keep sneaking up on him. 

You touched his forearm to make him turn, and a knife stroked against your throat in an involuntary reflex on his part. You became paralyzed, not daring to move an inch to the left or the right, lest he cut your throat deeper. You could already feel the sting of the tip of his blade slicing your skin and the hot drop of blood that slid down your neck. When he realized it was you, his piercing blue eyes opened wide and his fearsome face softened. 

“Y/N!” He called your name out loud and he dropped his heavy weapon to the floor with a clutter. His hands were all over you. He took one hand up to cup your cheek and another to caress your neck lightly. “I am  _ so _ sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.” 

Your chest was heaving up and down from the adrenaline. He made you step back into the shadows haphazardly to hug you. Before you were guided backward by his frame, you could have sworn you saw Ivar sitting on the patio across the door. But the contrast between the harsh sunlight outside and the comforting shadows inside of the room was very apparent, so your eyes could have been deceiving you. Maybe it was just your paranoia...

“Are you alright?” 

“Y-yes, yes, I am okay. It is alright. It was my fault for not calling your name.” You said against his neck. You inhaled his soothing scent to try and calm down. 

Bjørn took a step back but left his hands resting on the crook of your neck. He made you crane your head so he could see where he had cut you and once he was satisfied he had not done any major damage, he huffed heavily in relief. His gaze traveled almost involuntarily down your body and you realized then that the loose knot of the long-sleeved robe you had wrapped around your waist was opening up and a revealing slit appeared. The fabric was shimmering with the drops of water that still stuck to your soaked body and his eyes were glued to your skin in a rather upfront way. He lifted his gaze to your face and you became increasingly aware of the lack of distance between your bodies. 

Bjørn dived into your mouth without forewarning and you did not resist him. Instead, you found your lips parted easily for him as your legs grew weaker. Sensing your imbalance he backed you against the wall and pinned you against him. He ran his calloused hands up your thigh before settling on the daunting curve of your hip. His mouth was rough and unforgiving; he was giving you no quarter, taking your lips prisoner as if they were his undisputed possession. He tasted vaguely of sweet mead. He brought one hand up to your ribs and ran it sluggishly against your waist, feeling every inch of your still-damp skin. 

You knew you should pull back, somehow put a stop to it, but you wanted to see how far he was willing to take this. His tongue kept assaulting yours and even if it pained you to admit it, your moans were not exactly a sign of protest. You were enjoying his coarse way of handling you - so different from Hvitserk’s gentle touch - that you could have gone for more were it not for one of Bjørn’s slaves who chose precisely now to interrupt.

“What?!” He turned and snarled at the poor guy who looked no older than six and ten.

“K-king Harald wants to see you, my Prince. He says it is an urgent matter.” The boy spoke and meant to lower his head but his gaze intertwined with your open robe. It was clear that you and Bjørn had been fooling around. His cheeks burned scarlet, whether from fear, embarrassment, arousal, or a strange mix of all three you could not tell, but you did enjoy his reaction. 

“What are you staring at? Huh, boy?” Bjørn confronted him. 

“N-nothing. I am so sorry.”

“Who told you you could look at her? Do not ever raise your eyes at Y/N without permission or I will blind you.” Bjørn took a step in his direction and raised his voice.

“Nalle…” You whispered your nickname for Bjørn in a slightly chastising voice and stood behind him, posing your hand on his thick arm and using his broad frame to hide your body. “Let him go.”

“You heard her. Go!” 

The boy lowered his head and backtracked swiftly without making further eye contact with either one of you. Your cheeks turned red too and you giggled a little. You could not deny how stimulating this felt: making out with a son of Ragnar in a dark corner and getting caught, having a stranger’s eyes on you, seeing Bjørn guard you so fiercely. Sneaking around with lovers was exhilarating even if you still felt somewhat guilty.

“I can guarantee you, Y/N, you just made that poor kid’s night.” Bjørn looked down his side at you and you turned a few shades darker. “But you can rest assured that he will not tell anyone.”

“Nalle…” You started in a low voice. “What were you - well, we - doing?”

He turned around completely and smirked sideways at you.

“Do not blame me. You deserved that one.”

“I did?” You raised an eyebrow and grinned.

He nodded. “Mhm.” He backed you up against the wall again, this time without touching you. His arms rested on the wall above your head. “I simply fell victim to your charm, woman.” He kept smirking and looked down at your breasts. 

You finally took a hand over to your robe and pulled the strings in a knot which made him look up at your face at last.

“Is that so?” You could not help but smile lazily. You bit your lip considering your next words carefully. “You know I love you like crazy, right?”

He nodded. “I do too.” He replied serenely.

“But you also know I am Hvitserk’s woman.” You cast down your gaze.

“Like you were Ivar’s?” He shot back immediately.

“I was never Ivar’s.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. It was never like that.” Your expression soured.

He laughed, still not fully believing you. “Knowing Ivar as I do, chances are you  _ were _ his, but he probably fucked it up.”

“Hvitserk… he was my first. That is the truth.”

“Well, even so, I am sure my little brother would not mind sharing.” He smiled suggestively.

“I… do not think it is one of those situations. But even if he did, I-” You felt rather embarrassed, but you just did not think you could take being in a relationship with both brothers at the same time. Maybe if he would have made his intentions known before you got involved with Hvitserk, things would have been different today.

Bjørn chuckled. “Alright… I hear you. But do not expect me to apologize for kissing you.”

“I know better than that.” You laughed. 

“Good. Because I do not regret what I did, only that I did not do it sooner… And know this… The moment Hvitserk backs off…” He tilted his head. “I will step forward again.” He promised. “Of that, you can be certain.” 

Your heart jumped inside your chest at his words. Could it be that he felt that strongly about you? You pressed a long kiss on his cheek before cupping his face.

“Bjørn Ironside, serial womanizer, you are unbelievable. And you flatter me immensely. But you will survive without me.” 

A few seconds went by before he responded: “I will let you know how that goes.”

You both smiled.

\---

When Hvitserk told you he would end the night of the Yul feast ripping your dress off, you did not think he was exaggerating, but you also did not quite plan for him wanting to make love to you on top of the table in the back of the kitchen. You had flour dusting on your bottom and an ale stain down the front of your dress courtesy of Hvitserk’s slippery hands. He had thrown down everything on top of the table to the floor unceremoniously, including some bread, a jug of ale, and a fruit bowl before lifting you up. 

He gnawed with his teeth at the lace in the front of your dress like an animal and you laughed out loud. He was trying to make you laugh with his savage act. He then stuck his hand inside and pulled it apart as if it were made of straw. He crouched a little in order to kiss you, his hyperactive mouth was everywhere; on your shoulders, on your pulse point, on your jawline, on your cheeks, on your collarbone, drawing long sighs from you. 

“Stop teasing.” You said.

“What was that?” His voice sounded muffled.

“I said… stop teasing.” Grinning, you took his jaw in between your fingers and made him look up at you.

He grinned back and kissed the palm of your hand while he locked eyes with you. Your heavy lids battered and you bit your bottom lip. He took that as an invitation to kiss your mouth. 

“You know how crazy I get when you look at me like that. I could just-” His mouth was rolling on any exposed inch of your skin he could find. “-eat you up.” 

His fingers trailed your knees and up your thighs tortuously. He posed his lips on your neck once again and you winced when he bit you close to where Bjørn had cut you, but you tried not to let it show.

“Hvitserk…” You warned. “Less talking.” You grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down gently. 

He positioned his face in between your legs and bit your thighs hard enough to leave lovebites right where he had caressed you just seconds before. You threw your head back, enjoying the addictive warmth of his beautiful mouth. His tongue compelled you to moan his name intermittently until another name escaped your lips making him stop.

“Ivar.”

“What?” He paused and dried his wet sloppy mouth on the back of his hand.

“Ivar!” You repeated louder, making him turn around to see what you were seeing.

Ivar was frozen on the kitchen’s entrance, his luminous blue eyes turning dark with rage as his mouth took on a sour expression. 

“I always knew you would betray me, brother. But I never expected it to be like this.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar takes his vengeance on Hvitserk and you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter I wrote real quick cuz I felt bad for not updating this. Partly because college s u c k s but also cuz I've just been pouring all my energy into writing other ideas I had for Hvitty... so really this is all his fault ;) 
> 
> Comments are appreciated <3

“I do not know why you are complaining, little brother. Any other man in your position would be filled with joy knowing the great honor I am bestowing you. I do not think you are quite understanding the favor I am doing you.” Ivar announced loudly.

“Oh, I understand alright.” Hvitserk countered.

“It is true!” Freydis supported him and Ivar smiled at her, gratefully kissing her hand. 

“See? My queen agrees with me.”

Hvitserk’s lip curled but he did not immediately reply.

“Brother.” Ivar continued in a false friendly tone. “I know we have had our differences. But despite all of that, I am letting you remain in your position as the commander of Kattegat’s army  _ and _ I am dispatching you to lead the attack on King Olaf and his insurgent force. What greater honor than that?! You can play an important part in the safekeeping of Kattegat.” He gestured around to the people gathered in the Great Hall.

“Is that so?” Hvitserk retorted, challenging him with his gaze.

You looked between them feeling helpless, as you could only stand idly by while Ivar shipped off your man in what was merely an excuse to have him killed. The second Ivar had left the kitchen upon discovering you and Hvitserk were together, you knew things were very far from okay. You just did not know how badly yet. You had expected Ivar to lash out violently at Hvitserk and were confused when he had not. 

In retrospect, perhaps, you should not have felt as puzzled as you did back then. It was obvious that one-on-one retribution was beneath him. Ever since he became King, he relied more and more on other people to do his dirty work for him, merely masterminding his savage and capricious punishments. And this was the cruelest of them all, publicly binding Hvitserk to defend his home or forever be known as a coward. 

You knew Hvitserk had to go. But there was no place for a woman like you in battle. You were by no instances a shieldmaiden, and so you could not go with him. In any case, Hvitserk would not allow for it either. So you could only sit and watch as your once closest friend all but sacrificed his brother - your lover - at the altar of his pride. 

You felt like this not because you doubted Hvitserk’s skill in battle, but because he was severely outnumbered. Everyone was aware of King Olaf’s might and of his new alliance with King Harald, a known betrayer, who nonetheless had numerous ships and soldiers at his disposal. Hvitserk and his garrison were thus merely a distraction, pure cannon fodder meant to stall until Ivar could manage to scramble up new alliances and ask neighboring towns for help.

“It is! Now, go and prepare the ships. You leave at first light!” And with that he dismissed him.

Hvitserk looked to the floor and nodded while he chuckled without humor. “Do not worry, brother. I promise you I will survive and I will bring Kattegat the victory. I have way more important things waiting for me here than things to lose out there.” 

You recognized the intent behind his tone. Hvitserk knew he was the underdog and that Ivar was not really counting on him to survive at all, but that only fueled him, made him braver and tougher instead of discouraging him. You felt your heart wring itself inside your chest, despair dominating you. Your eyes were full of tears as you looked at Ivar, disappointment written all across your features. At that moment, he posed his venomous eyes on you too and you shook your head at him. 

You turned around with the intent of heading for the door. You hoped he knew that this time around, you truly would not forgive him. His actions were that of a cruel and vengeful person, a side of him you had fought him on many times because you knew he was capable of doing so much better. But he insisted on ruining everyone’s happiness, instead of confronting what had happened between you two. 

Out of nowhere, you felt Hvitserk’s hands grab you by the waist to turn you around. At this point, after having spent so many days and nights in his arms, you could tell him apart just by the touch of his fingers on your skin. He posed his forehead against yours lovingly and you stayed like that with your eyes closed for a brief moment. You knew there were people watching but you did not care if everyone knew you were together. There was no point in hiding your relationship anymore. In fact, it felt liberating to finally be able to claim him as yours in public.

And so you kissed him: hungrily, desperately, passionately. You clashed your mouth against his mouth in an anguished prayer. And one kiss turned into many. Hvitserk grabbed your face sweetly, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. You did not want to separate your lips from his, you did not want to be torn apart from him. You could not speak, but you hoped your kisses manifested into existence the words you could not bring yourself to say at the moment.

“I know, my love, I know.” Hvitserk whispered in a gentle voice. “I do not want to go either. But I have to. Not just for my honor but for yours. I have to go out there and protect you. You know you are my whole world, right?” He stroked your chin.

“I- I understand.” You forced the words out of your mouth. “And I will wait here for you.” You were making a conscious effort to not sob, to not crumble in front of everyone and give Ivar the satisfaction.

“I am so proud that you are mine.” He told you, looking you in the eyes reassuringly. He slid his hand down to the small of your back before pecking at your lips again and smiling pleasingly. 

Hvitserk gazed back at Ivar arrogantly before passing an arm around your hips. And even if you wanted to see the expression on his face and wordlessly let him know that he would never be able to break your spirit completely, you could not bring yourself to look at Ivar, so you just walked side by side with your lover, feeling thrilled and emboldened. On your way out you passed Bjørn and Ubbe, who only stared at you a little disoriented. Today was going to be your last time together in who knows how long, and you both knew very well that spending it in Ivar’s presence instead of in each other’s arms was a waste of precious time.

“Let us go to that waterfall where I made you mine for the first time.” He whispered in your ear, and bit your earlobe with lust, sending chills down your spine. 

You could not wait to have his hands undressing you, while his mouth left sloppy kisses from your shoulders to your hips and up again. You pushed thoughts of the future from your head and held onto the promise of Hvitserk’s feverish touch on your body.


	10. Chapter 10

When that nauseous feeling hit you again, you were grateful to be near running water. You could not even tell anymore whether it was due to the baby in your belly or to being sick to your stomach because of your broken heart. It had been three months since you found out you were with child, almost two months since Hvitserk left never to be seen again, and one since you had been faithfully visiting your favorite spot. 

It was the only place you could sit in peace for a while, away from Ivar’s poisonous presence, and just… cry. That was all you ever did as of late. Cry and beg the gods that they would bring Hvitserk safely back to you as they had done once before. You cleaned your mouth with your dress’ sleeve and walked up to the boulder where you sat for hours everyday longing for him. You heard someone’s footsteps in the distance and your heart started beating hopefully.

“Hvitserk?”

“It is I.” Bjørn looked at you almost apologetically.

“Oh.” You swallowed, trying to hide your disappointment and calm your uneven breathing.

He approached you carefully. Eventually, he crouched in front of you and sighed. “Y/N… I have something to tell you. It is about Hvitserk.”

Your eyes shot up from the ground. “What is it? Is he back?!”

“No.” Bjørn informed you. “No, but… we have news. A messenger came to us this morning...”

When you heard the tension in his voice you realized it could not possibly be anything good.

You shook your head. “Please do not tell me that- do not- do not  _ say it. _ ” You begged him.

“I am sorry, my darling. But this battle was suicide. He knew that.”

“No, it was not suicide. It was murder! Ivar murdered him!” You exclaimed full of rage and stood up, meaning to stomp back to Kattegat and spit in his face if it was the last thing you did.

In turn, Bjørn grabbed your arms to make you stop. He brought you in for a hug and you crumbled inside his grip. “He cannot be dead, Nalle. He just cannot… He promised me!”

“I know and I am sorry. I wish I could bring you better news.” He kissed your forehead as you sobbed despairingly. When he felt you had calmed down enough, he told you: “Sit down, please. I have something else to tell you.”

He helped you sit down without losing your balance, he could sense how out of your senses you were. He crouched down again and made an ominous pause.

“I know this is not a good time to spring this on you, but before leaving, Hvitserk told me something. Something you told him yourself.”

You scanned his face wondering what on earth he meant.

“He told me you were pregnant with his child. And believe me, he was happy beyond belief… but he also knew he might not live to see that child grow and so he asked me…”

“What? What did he say?” You urged him in your desperation.

“He asked me to marry you.”

Your face contorted as you understood the implications. Hvitserk had planned for you to be well-provided for in case he died. Your heart was shattered in pieces yet you still managed to feel a shrivel of joy. You could not have asked for a sweeter man. Your tears came back and you put a hand on your mouth to stifle your cries.

“He knew that Ivar’s megalomania could only grow. And he did not want you to have to face him alone, or worse, find yourself thrown into the streets… He knew that Ivar held on to his anger and with him gone, you would be his most vulnerable target.”

Bjørn sat down on the ground and rested his hand on top of yours while you carefully processed his words. 

“And what did you say?” You finally inquired.

“I said yes.” Your gazes clashed. “But of course none of that matters if you do not want me.”

You could not keep your eyes from shedding tears. You tried to breathe in and out slowly.

“But I have to be honest with you, Y/N. I also promised him I would look after you and your child, even if you did not wed me. With this I mean to say that… you do not  _ have _ to marry me if you do not want to… I know you know how I feel about you. I have made that clear in the past but… I guess I also owe you my sincerity.” Bjørn sighed and looked to the side and at the waterfall, lost in thought.

You looked down at your trembling hands and considered your options. Even if at the moment you did not want to be with anyone else but Hvitserk, you had to be smart. This went beyond your love life. And even though Bjørn had promised he would take care of you regardless, you knew that being his wife would fare way better for you and it would guarantee not just safety, but companionship and someone to help you raise your baby. 

You did not want him to grow up without a father and with the enduring stain of being a bastard. And a small part of you - a part you were not proud of at all - also desperately wanted to get back at Ivar. Marrying his other brother seemed like the perfect opportunity to not only thwart his plans of vengeance - Bjørn was arguably the only brother he ever feared - but also to cruelly wound him, almost as deeply as he had hurt you. 

“You do not have to give me an answer right now.”

“Yes. I accept.”

“A-are you sure?” He was trying to hide his elation.

“I am. I want to marry you.”

He quickly composed himself and tried to reason with you: “Y/N… you can take your time. It does not even have to be me. We could ask Ubbe if he is willing... I know you two are good friends… or you can just stay like this. I promise you, no one will harm you.”

“N-no, I want to do it. And the sooner the better.” You answered him resolutely. “There is truly no better option than you.” You said in a small voice. “I know you will care well for us... I have only one condition.”

“Anything, my darling.”

You looked down at your stomach and put a hand on top of it. “If it is a boy, we name him Hvitserk.”

Bjørn cradled your stomach with his hands. He swallowed and smiled a melancholic smile. Even if he was winning, with Hvitserk gone it truly did not feel like winning. 

He nodded. “Of course.” He stood up and offered you his hand and you took it. “Let us go back now. We have many things to plan.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have noooo idea how mortified I am to be posting another chapter of this story so many months later. Please please please take this brief chapter as a peace offering lmao
> 
> Also, I am currently finishing the last episodes of Vikings and I. Am. Not. Okay. Plus, I saw spoilers even though I was trying so fucking hard to avoid them and I don't know what to feel. I'm mad, frustrated, heartbroken and every other emotion in between. I don't wanna let go of my babies.
> 
> Send help please.

The day where you would marry Bjørn was merely one night away. In reality, it had not been that much time since you and he had decided to wed. But the days under Ivar’s scrutinous gaze and petty plots to disturb your peace trickled by awfully slowly. You could not wait to know you were truly safe under Bjørn’s care and if you were being completely honest, a part of you eagerly awaited the title of his wife. To capture that man’s heart for good was no small feat. 

He had been the scourge of many fathers that put up with the Prince’s escapades with their daughters solely because his name commanded the utmost deference. He had bedded as many shieldmaidens as one could probably fit in the Great Hall, but he had steadily refused to marry and have children yet. Knowing that he had made away with his qualms for you provoked in you feelings of pride and gratitude. And curiosity… Ever since you made out with him that day, you felt the ghost of his words - and his hands - roaming across your mind and your body often. 

_ I do not regret what I did, only that I did not do it sooner… _

_ The moment Hvitserk backs off... I will step forward again.  _

_ Of that, you can be certain. _

And even before that, in your lonely nights, many moons before Hvitserk took you as his woman, you had indulged in heated thoughts about Bjørn under the cover of your heavy pelts that dulled your needy whimpers and moans as you slid your fingers underneath your nightgown and in between your legs and imagined them to be his. Probably every woman in Kattegat had had the same fantasy; for who would not want to be touched by him? Who would not want to belong to the eldest son of Ragnar? To be his coddled woman, his beloved Princess...

You were certain that you would never forsake Hvitserk, what he had given you and what he still meant to you. Not today, not in a thousand days. But you did not want to spend the rest of your days withering away over a phantom. And you knew Hvitserk would not want that for you either. You were willing to start again with Bjørn. Or at the very least, you had to try.  _ Truly try _ . So even if it still felt sinful to desire Bjørn - no one was really judging you, but you, you constantly repeated to yourself - in a way, it also felt… natural. Like the anticipated conclusion to the relationship that you had forged over the long years. Your bond with him was singular in that there was usually not much to say about it, yet you were both silently aware of its presence. 

You seemed to understand each other and care for one another in a way that for one, superseded words, and on the other hand, it had made - and still made - Ivar jealous... but most of all, it made him wary. He sensed your adoration for his brother, he witnessed how Bjørn opened up around you. His smiles, his silent acts of kindness for you, that unbroken line of love that flowed between you two. Ivar must have known that if left unchecked by him, your connection could only grow and rival his. And that is why Ivar made a point to stick around whenever he could, to overcrowd you and to command all your attention. 

He usually found ways to steal you away under some pretense or another and you, not knowing any better at the time, had allowed him. That had been then, in what seemed almost like a different lifetime. And yet now, reclining in your pelts and cushions against the foot of your bed in front of the fire, and safely nestled in Bjørn’s arms, you could not help but reflect on the past, connecting the dots of your story in the process. 

“Do you recall how Ivar used to spirit you away whenever you were having too much fun with me? I remember the first time you got drunk. You said you wanted me close by watching you because you could not trust your legs - or your judgment - anymore.” Bjørn chuckled while he reminisced. 

How could you forget that particular Harvest Feast brimming with unbounded cups of mead that made you want to remain by his side? Truly enough, you had felt like keeping a son of Ragnar close by would guarantee you would not be bothered by any sleazy sailor or soldier that night. And your legs were indeed quaking under the sway of all the liquor you had imbibed. But you also remembered mortifyingly well how the intoxicating drinks had made you red-hot with desire. 

The problem was you had not known how to seduce him and get your way so you simply sat on his lap, gripped his arm, nuzzled in his neck, and laughed at everything he said all night long, drunk from the liquor and from Bjørn’s glinting eyes perpetually posed on your face, taking you in as his lips smiled proudly. You no longer knew if the blood that warmed your face had been stirred by the sweet drinks or from experiencing that oddly intimate moment between you. 

“And Ivar was furious…” You continued after a while.

“...So he entered the hall unceremoniously and ordered the servants to carry you to your room.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “There was no fun to be had with him around.”

“Well, all his efforts were to no avail. His outbursts matter no more. I believe every moment has led us to this, Y/N.” Bjørn’s pleasant voice caressed your ear.

You turned around to look into his eyes that met yours without reserve.

“What do you mean?” 

“I always knew. I always knew the gods were preparing you for me. I only had to bide my time.” 

Bjørn’s open mouth came to touch your lips, his tongue flickered against them temptingly. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine and his expert hands gripped your face firmly. There was something about his unyielding touch that made your will power dissolve and you were contemplating whether to ask him to ravage you tonight before your morning wedding would be a good idea. You knew he most certainly would not deny you... 

There was an urgency about him that thrilled you. But you also wanted to wait until your wedding night, not for any other reason than making last the joy and the mystery and the way your heart drummed erratically inside your ribs every time you longed for him. It was deliciously sweet torture, tethering over the edge of your desire. Not that you thought you would get tired of him owning you time and time again, but you wanted to savor the anticipation of your first time with Bjørn. 

And as if the gods themselves had made up your mind for you, there was a harsh thumping on the door.

Bjørn looked to the side where the sound was coming from and he stayed still. He waited for the thumping to resume before getting up and opening the door of your bedchamber. You used the moment to fix your hair and grab the curve of your bump lovingly. Feeling your baby - Hvitserk’s baby - moving inside you always grounded you and comforted you.

“What are you doing here?” Bjørn asked sternly.

“Who is it?” You frowned and inquired. There was the sound of a struggle which startled you and you moved your neck trying to see past your betrothed.

“Let me in, brother.” Another loud clunk accompanied a shove that made Bjørn stagger in place slightly. “I did not come here to fight you. We need to talk, Y/N.” 

You recognized that voice immediately. 

Ivar.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, this conversation took forever to happen 🤦🏻♀️

Bjørn huffed at his brother then looked at you with concern written all over his features. Ivar stomped closer to you but stopped halfway for some reason. Perhaps he remembered how you were always telling him he had to respect your privacy. 

“Y/N…” Bjørn started. His voice told you that he would gladly kick his brother out if you wanted him to.

“L-let him in…” You saw him nod reluctantly. 

“I will be around, my love. In case you... need my protection.” Bjørn sized Ivar up and down. Then he closed the door with a soft thump.

“May I?” Ivar asked and pointed with his crutch to your bed. 

You let him sit to your left but you remained on the floor. You both stared ahead at the flames and you stayed in silence for a long moment. If this were not the occasion where you were finally going to confront each other, it would have felt like one of your many afternoons lounging in front of the fire with him laying his head on your lap and you playing with his hair or caressing his arms, laughing and relying on each other’s company to quench your loneliness.

“To what do I owe the…  _ pleasure _ of your visit?” You uttered carefully and he scoffed.

“Please, Y/N, let us be sincere for one moment. You have not been happy to see me around for long months now.” When you refused to answer him he went on: “I came to ask you something. And as your king, you cannot refuse me.” His voice sounded formal yet strained as if he were trying to hide his true intentions behind this proposal. Typical.

“What is it?”

“I came to ask you not to marry Bjørn. I have thought long and hard about your reasons for marrying him and I came to the conclusion that you are doing it to seek protection from me. Either that or to spite me. In any case, I am offended and hurt that you would think so low of me. So I propose a truce. I will no longer trouble you. You are free to live under my roof without fear of repercussions.”

Now it was you the one who scoffed. You did not want to have a fight with him but he always said the most unbelievable things to deflect the blame and manipulate others. You had rehearsed this conversation in your head many times because you knew that he would come to you sooner or later - you just did not expect him to do it at the very last minute.

“Surely you cannot be truly surprised that I think that. You have made my life in Kattegat a living hell ever since you found out about Hvitserk and me.”

He huffed a few times and looked for an answer.

“I… admit that I have not been exactly kind to you. I was offended by you sneaking around behind my back.”

“Why? What was so offensive about my relationship with Hvitserk?”

He ignored you. “But surely I do not deserve… this.” He paused. “Y/N, you know very well that Bjørn is…”

“Your biggest nightmare?” You asked sarcastically.

“Y/N, please. I am making an effort to be sincere. Do not mock me.” He said passionately but lowered his eyes. 

“Have you ever considered that you might be too late?”

“What do you mean?” He looked slightly startled.

“I kept waiting for you to face me for weeks after you saw us but you never did.”

“Why were you waiting for me? You could have come to me too.” Ivar said accusatory and you shook your head.

“Are you still denying your mistakes? You hurt my feelings, Ivar! You treated me like scum!” 

When he heard the urgency in your voice he nodded and his eyebrows creased. “I hear you. I hear you, my dear but you know how I am…” His voice faltered but if that was his approximation of an apology, you were not having it. And why was he calling you pet names again? Did he honestly think that he could win back your trust?

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I often say things I regret but you always forgive me…” His voice was vulnerable and raw. 

“Exactly, Ivar. I always forgave you but that time you had no reason to doubt my love and my loyalty to you. Yet you did. You insulted me.”

“And after that, why did you never tell me about Hvitserk?”

“You know very well why. Even if we would have been on speaking terms, you always made assumptions about your place in my life. And you always resented Hvitserk.” 

He opened his mouth to reply but you cut him off. 

“Why were you so outraged? You never answered my question. Why is my love for Hvitserk so offensive to you?” You pressed. “He was your  _ brother _ . Sure, I understand if you would have been upset or astonished at first... but at some point, you should have been happy for me, for us.”

“Because… because you are…  _ were- _ ” He corrected himself with a frown. “-my best friend and I never thought you would betray me like that.”

“Betray you? Ivar, we were never together. I was not unfaithful to you.” 

Ivar swallowed and you could see a shadow of pain crossing his eyes.

“Answer me this then. Why did you have to start a relationship with my brother? Was I not enough for you? What could he possibly give you that you could not have with me? Or have you forgotten all the amazing things we shared?” Ivar chuckled without mirth. “That thick dumb idiot? It could not have been his smart conversations because he had no wits.” Ivar spoke sarcastically.

“Do not speak ill of the dead.” Your eyes quickly filled with tears. “Or have  _ you  _ forgotten how you had him killed? Because I have not.”


	13. Chapter 13

“I had him killed?!” He had the guts to act surprised. “I did not kill him in battle, sweet Y/N. Some soldier or another did that.”

“Stop calling me pet names! You are nothing to me anymore, Ivar. Except perhaps a thorn on my side. Do not presume upon my feelings.” You said with finality and he clenched his jaws. “You sent him to that battle to hurt me. What you did before is nothing compared to that vile act. I could have forgiven you for anything, but for killing my sweet Hvitserk - your own brother - I could never forgive you. You went too far.” 

Ivar’s face contorted.

“And you are wrong.” You explained referring to his previous comment. “You deserve this and worse.” You spat out. “Get out of my room.” 

“Please, Y/N.” Ivar put a hand on your shoulder and you withdrew violently, standing up from the floor so he could not touch you anymore.

“Please… listen to me. If not for my sake then for yours.”

“For my sake?!”

“Yes, for yours. I am only trying to look out for you.”

You could not hold back your laughter if you tried. “What do you care about my wellbeing anymore?”

“Bjørn is a seducer. How long do you think he will spend in your bed before growing bored and tired and leaving you for another woman? I bet as soon as he can put his own child inside your belly, you will no longer be appealing in his eyes.” His words were pure venom and you felt like slapping him. Classic Ivar. He would try to turn you against your betrothed, to poison your mind against Bjørn if he could not convince you in some other way. He just had to have his way.

“I know you inside out Ivar, and I can tell when you are grasping at straws. And even if Bjørn forsakes me, that is no concern of yours.” Your voice was less angry than melancholic. “Once upon a time I might have listened to you, but I will not do so now.”

“But why are you marrying Bjørn? Huh? Answer me! He means nothing to you!”

“You are wrong.”

“I am wrong?!” He challenged you, his patience had run out already. “How am I wrong? Do you love him? Is that it? There can be no other explanation for how badly you are insisting upon your union.” His voice grew more tense and challenging.

“I have always loved your brother, Ivar, you know that.”

“Certainly…” His mouth turned in disgust. “As a friend. But surely not enough to marry him. Why is it so hard to understand that he will dispose of you as soon as he beds you?”

“He will not.”

“Did he promise you his eternal love?” Ivar chuckled. “Ask any of his previous conquests how that turned out for them. They all thought they were the one. And they were all sadly mistaken… What did he promise you? Tell me! Protection? Clothes? Treasure?” You could have all of those things with any other man.”

“I do not want any other man. I want Bjørn. And I know he will be an excellent father to Hvitserk’s baby.”

At the mention of Hvitserk - or perhaps of your child together - Ivar grew serious. 

“Whatever he has promised you, I can promise you twice as much, three times as much. I am king now, as you well know.” Ivar said solemnly. 

“Why do you keep saying things like that? Why do you insist on questioning my feelings for Hvitserk and for Bjørn? These are matters of that heart, Ivar, and you cannot buy love.”

There was a charged pause where the only sound was the gentle crackling of the fire. “So you never loved me? Is that what you are saying?”

“That is not what I am saying. But my love for your brothers is different from the love I bore you.”

“Different  _ how _ exactly?”

“I was never in love with you.” After having experienced true love with Hvitserk, your confusion with Ivar had finally cleared. 

“And you were with them?” Ivar asked begrudgingly.

“Y-yes.” You admitted. “At least with Hvitserk. With Bjørn… my feelings for him grow with each passing day. I do not yet know what to call it. All I know is I enjoy his company almost as much as I desire him. I long to be his wife.”

“I see how it is then.” He stomped his crutch on the ground and made an effort to stand up.

“By all the gods Ivar, why do you care?” You yelled trying to get him to admit what you had been suspecting for a long time now.

“Because I am in love with you, Y/N!”

There it was.

“But if my feelings for you matter so little, I suppose it is better to let you make your own decisions.” He gestured to you with disdain.

“You are delusional, Ivar. Not to mention already engaged to another woman.”

“That matters not. Freydis is but a slave. I could have her killed if I so desire.”

“Is that how you solve all your problems? Killing them?”

“I am king! My wishes are everyone’s command.” Ivar gruffed. “Except yours, evidently.”

He was wounded and irate. A dangerous cocktail of emotions for anybody and for him in particular. 

But you did not care about his affronts anymore so you stuck your chin in the air. “I asked you to leave. Please, do not make me repeat myself, Ivar.”

“I just confessed my love for you. Does that truly mean nothing to you?” He muttered, defeated.

“If you loved me, then you should not have treated me the way you did. Maybe once upon a time it might have stirred something in me but it is too late, Ivar, I already told you. I have nothing left to say to you except repeat that for what you did to Hvitserk, I could never  _ ever _ forgive you.”

“Have it your way then.” Ivar stood up and trudged to the door.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking finally! Here's the ending to this piece. Do let me know what you think 😅 
> 
> I know nothing about old Viking wedding rites so ignore the inaccuracies lmao
> 
> also I added a link to a playlist of songs that remind me of this story which I usually listen to when writing. I put it in the first chapter and I did the same for most of my other stories as well. Figured I might as well make them public lol There are some weird additions that only I understand so just roll with it 😂

On the morning of your wedding day, Kattegat was brimming with life. There were flower garlands as far as the eye could see. You peeked through the window of your room to see the townsfolk finishing the preparations for the feast, it was a huge communal event. For you, this would be the last time waking up in your own bed. As of tonight, you would have new and bigger quarters shared with your husband. 

After last night’s conversation with Ivar, Bjørn had doubled on the security of your door since you had insisted that you spend the night apart to build up the anticipation and he accepted begrudgingly. Usually, he slept next to you to protect you in case Ivar tried something. And after that confrontation, he was even more reticent to leave you alone. He wanted to stand guard himself but you convinced him he needed to rest the night before his wedding.

You stood up with your heart thumping loudly in your ears. The day was here. You yawned and walked up to the mirror. The curve of your baby bump kept growing with each passing day and you turned sideways and admired it. You could not wait to meet your baby. Your hands slid down to cup your stomach lovingly and a tear rolled down your face without you even being aware. Today was the day you would put Hvitserk to rest for good. It was as much a funeral for your past relationship as it was the inauguration of a new chapter in your life. 

There was a faint knock on the door and you opened it to find a plainly-dressed blonde woman about your age holding an exquisitely woven dress in her arms. “Mistress Y/N, Bjørn sent me.” She curtsied briefly.

“What?”

“He bought me... especially for you.” She clarified. “I will be your new… servant.” She tiptoed around the word ‘slave’ and you frowned. He knew you hated the idea of having people tending to you but it was one of those things you just would have to get used to. 

“Very well.”

“We should start bathing and dressing you. The ceremony starts soon.”

\---

Walking up to Bjørn arm in arm with Ubbe had been more nerve-wracking than you hoped. Mainly because Bjørn’s expression almost made you lose your footing, twice. His eyes looked adoringly sweet even if he was making an effort to stay calm, you could tell how his chest heaved heavily with pride underneath his thick black bear fur coat. Words were recited, oaths were taken, tokens were exchanged... Then the priestess broke the skin of the neck of a young calf and sputtered its blood across both your faces, sealing your union. 

And right before Bjørn leaned in to kiss your plush lips aching with desire, you saw Ivar’s utterly heartbroken face as he sat among the crowd of guests gathered in the Great Hall that had traveled from the confines of your world to witness the legendary Bjørn Ironside’s union with you. Ivar’s thoughts were as evident as the sun that shone on you and your beloved. He shook his head faintly in anguish; he knew he had lost you for good. And you smiled.

\---

“Look what I brought for you, my love.” Bjørn entered the bathroom shirtless and sat next to the tub where you were currently soaking your body. 

You took in his majestic frame, his bulging muscles, and towering height and felt a shudder trailing down your spine and heating up your core. That man was yours and you were so anxious to feel his weight on top of you, as much as your belly would allow it. 

You had given a lot of thought to how exactly you were going to consummate your marriage with a round bump in between you and you still were not sure exactly how. Hvitserk had left before you started showing. But you trusted Bjørn would figure out a way of doing it and making you feel good. 

Your husband produced a crystalline jar from his hands and handed it to you. “Just a small token of my appreciation. And a preview of all the lovely things I will shower you with until the day I die.” He leaned forward to peck your lips.

“What is it?” You looked at it. “It’s a rare perfume brought from the Silk Road by foreign traders. Very expensive and strong. I could not help but think of you when I smelled it.”

He opened the small bottle and you took a whiff of it. It was a rich intoxicating scent.

“Mmm. I love it.”

“That makes me very happy…” He set it aside and grinned. “You know... Seeing you here all I can think about is the first time I saw you naked. You were in Hvitserk’s bathtub and I had never felt as envious of my little brother as I did back then. To have all of you at his disposition…” Bjørn trailed off and reached over to your chest to slide the curtain of your hair to the side and eye your breasts hungrily. His calloused hands grabbed a handful of them and you bit your lip. “And now here you are.”

“And now here I am.” You confirmed sultrily. “Would you believe me if I told you that I have long awaited this moment, Bjørn Ironside?”

“I would not.” He chuckled a bit embarrassed. You would never get over how childlike he seemed whenever he blushed. 

“Really? I thought my desire for you was quite obvious sometimes.” You reclined on the bathtub and raised your legs to come rest over the edge of the tub giving him a good view of your legs slick with soap inviting him forward. 

He kissed the soles of your feet and slid a hand tentatively up your calves and when you nodded he switched to the inside of your thighs until he found what he was looking for.

“Not to me. Sometimes I wondered if the way you looked at me, the way you  _ were _ around me, meant something more... But I am not one to consider myself victorious until I have truly won.” His fingers traced circles on your yearning sex.

“I would say you have already won.” Your breaths came out in shudders.

“I have indeed.” He removed his hands from your center with a smirk and you whimpered at the loss of his touch. You sat forward to clash your mouth against his. You needed to be in contact with him one way or another.

“What is stopping you from joining me then, husband?” A question came up between kisses.

“Nothing, my darling girl.” Bjørn stood up and undid his pants that fell to the wooden floor with a rustle while you gazed at his manhood and practically drooled in expectation.

He sat down inside the tub and made a huge amount of water spill over the edge and soak the bathroom floor and you giggled. The wooden bathtub could scarcely contain all of his broadness. His head was tilted to the side while he looked at your body with unbridled desire. 

Bjørn gestured with his hand to his lap, silently beckoning you to sit on it and you obeyed, straddling his tree-trunk thighs as his big rough hands carefully steadied you and roamed the length of your legs. His heavenly mouth was around your neck peppering kisses all along the front of your chest and your shoulders when you both heard it, the deafening clang of the Great Hall’s door being knocked down with force and a furious voice roaring in anger.

“Ivar! Ivar where are you? Show yourself, you coward!”


	15. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okok here's the *actual* ending 😂 I had to write something else for my baby Hvitty. this story was so much fun, thank you ALL for reading and commenting and being so sweet to me <3 hmu on tumblr if you wanna chat @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

“What was that?” Bjørn asked and you both stayed perfectly still. Your thoughts were racing almost as fast as your heart. You glanced at Bjørn wondering if you should stand up and go investigate and he assented. The boisterous noise coming from outside the room continued for some long moments and before you could stand up, the door to the bathroom opened wide and the shadow of a man stood there frozen.

“Hvitserk?!” 

“Y/N? Bjørn? What is this?” He sounded confused for a second before he burst out laughing and ran to your encounter dropping his sword to the floor in the process.

You stood up and hugged him as tightly as you could never wanting to let go but he separated to grab your face with his fingers and clash his lips against yours and you let him devour you, having missed his mouth like the moon missed the sun. 

“Look at you! You look so beautiful, my love.” He smiled at you and you did the same in disbelief. “So full of me.” He dropped to his knees and kissed your stomach. 

You could not tear your eyes away from his face for fear he was a ghost that would vanish as swiftly as he appeared. Your eyes itched from the salty tears that filled them. But he was real. Hvitserk was there and your eyes were not deceiving you.

“Brother.” Bjørn greeted him as Hvitserk stood up again. 

They stared at each other briefly before Bjørn pulled him in for a rough bear hug and Hvitserk’s laugh boomed through the air.

“Brother.” Hvitserk said back in his mellow voice.

“What strike of luck has brought you back to us?” Bjørn put a robe lightly around your shoulders so you could cover if you so desired before tying one around his own body as well.

“Ivar. Where is he?” Hvitserk’s nostrils were flaring again, his mood changing like the tides of the sea.

“Probably curled up in a hole somewhere spewing venom as usual.” Bjørn retorted.

“W-we do not know, exactly. After the wedding ceremony, he disappeared quietly from the banquet.”

“After the wedding?”

“Our wedding.” Bjørn clarified in a slightly gloomy voice. “It happened today.”

“Of course. The favor I asked. Thank you, Bjørn. I knew I could count on you.” The blond nodded solemnly and took a step back from you with a gutted look on his green eyes that he was trying hard to hide.

“How are y-you alive?” You asked in a tremulous voice.

“Ivar arranged for my capture. He plotted with King Olaf for him to keep me as a war prisoner in exchange for the end of his attempts to rule Kattegat.” 

“You mean to say that all this time you were his hostage?” You questioned him.

“More or less, yes. His unwilling guest is how he put it.” Hvitserk chuckled before continuing: “Then King Oleg sent one of his own emissaries acting on Ivar’s orders bearing the false news of my death to convince the people of Kattegat that I had died.”

“Tell us what happened then, brother? How is it that you are here now?” Bjørn put an arm on his sibling’s shoulder.

“Ivar happened. I do not know why exactly but very early this morning, he ordered King Olaf to let me go.”

“Y/N, what was the last thing Ivar said to you last night? The one you said sounded like a vague threat?”

“He said: ‘Have it your way then.’” You looked at your husband while he reflected. 

“Ivar must have known.”

“Known what? What do you mean?” You inquired. 

“He knew that upon releasing Hvitserk, he would come straight to Kattegat. Since he could not convince you not to marry me, Ivar meant to drive a wedge between us.” Bjørn scoffed. 

You looked at Hvitserk and saw the realization in his eyes. Bjørn was probably right, you all knew it.

“I believe you are right, Bjørn.” Hvitserk conceded.

“Then I suppose the decision is yours, Y/N.” Bjørn’s tone was so wretched. He walked up to a chair and sat down.

Were you supposed to choose between your two lovers right this very instant? It would be nearly impossible to vocalize an answer. You did not want to hurt any of them. You loved Hvitserk with all your heart and body and soul. He was the father of your child and the sun that made you bloom like a flower. But Bjørn was a necessary part of your life as well. 

You held his friendship dear, you respected him, you desired his protection, his hands, his lips, and his body. You had become so close during the past months that the loss of him would be a devastating blow.  _ Unless... _ Unless you could propose they shared you. After all, it was not so far-fetched an idea. Bjørn himself had suggested it to you once upon a time when you had felt incredibly inadequate to embark on a relationship of that magnitude. But things had changed so much since then, and now that you had them, you did not want to let go of either of them.

You dried your tears on the cuff of your robe and looked to your husband. “Why do you speak in absolutes, my sweet Bjørn? Can you imagine the look on Ivar’s face when he realizes that his plans to thwart our marriage…” Then you grabbed Hvitserk’s hands. “... and to mess with our love, were useless. Can you picture Ivar’s helplessness when he knows that his weak schemes backfired and instead of me losing a lover, I won two?”

Hvitserk’s eyes were gleaming and you knew what he was thinking. It was the face he made when he was enticed by you. 

Bjørn sat forward in his seat and tilted his head examining your proposal then he shrugged. “I would…  _ not _ be opposed to that idea. You know I would rather share you with Hvitserk than not have you at all.”

“No doubt we need to discuss this important matter further.” Hvitserk stepped closer to place a sugary kiss on your cheek then he slid his wet lips over your mouth and grabbed your lovely neck with desire. “Yet this instant my mind is consumed with thoughts of vengeance.” He kissed you again in between sentences. For someone so bent on revenge, he sure could multitask. “Ivar needs to pay for the hell he put me - us - through…” Hvitserk continued his lazy assault on your mouth for a while longer before he rested his cheek against yours to look at his older brother, less like a brother, and more like a fellow army commander on the brink of war. “So, will you help me, Bjørn?”

Both you and Bjørn smirked with satisfaction. 

“Of course I will, brother.”

**Author's Note:**

> Look me up on Tumblr! deans-ch-ch-cherrypie.tumblr.com
> 
> In case you want to support me: https://ko-fi.com/amyponders


End file.
